Training Edward Elric
by ZaKai
Summary: When an opportunity arises for Ed to get the information he needs to get Al his body back, will he take it even if it means submitting to Roy? Rated for: language, torture, angst, and some mature scenes later in the story.
1. C5

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter One**

**C-5**

"I'm sorry sir, but you just don't have the clearance to see those research journals…"

Ed growled deep in his throat and pointed at his silver watch on the counter. "That thing gives me clearance, now let me have them!"

The library worker was new, not one of the usual two he normally dealt with and the short alchemist was about ready to strangle the man. Didn't he know who he was talking to?

"I'm really sorry…" the librarian repeated.

"Why the hell can't I see the fucking documents?" Ed asked through clenched teeth.

"Because sir, you don't have clearance…"

"You just _said_ that!" Ed seethed. "What kind of clearance do I need?"

"Well sir, this information is highly classified. You need to be a C-5 to read it, either that or a C-3 with C-5 access."

The blond blinked. "What is a C-5?"

"I'm not really sure myself. The only thing I know is that it is a specific ranking for State Alchemists… I don't really know… I'm sorry…"

Ed snatched the watch from the counter and shoved it back in his pocket. He'd never heard of any specific rankings for State Alchemists before, but he knew where to go to find out.

* * *

Ed kicked in the heavy wooden door and marched into Roy Mustang's office. The pompous man was sitting at his desk nodding in rhythm to Riza Hawkeye's lecturing. When the door hit the wall, the two looked over at him for a minute before Hawkeye continued what she was saying.

The young alchemist scowled. You knew people had gotten used to you when you did something like that and they barely even noticed. Well, he wasn't about to be ignored. He needed those journals! The journals contained important information that he'd be able to use to get Al's body back.

"I want to talk to you!" Ed yelled and pointed a finger at his superior officer.

Again the two looked at him and this time Mustang said in an amused tone, "I'm flattered, but really I'm quite busy…"

"Colonel…" Ed said, trying to get the older man's attention.

"Perhaps you could come back another…"

"What is…?"

"…time. I really need to get…"

"I need to know…"

"…this work done before…"

"Colonel…" Ed growled. He really needed to get that information and the bastard wasn't even letting him say anything! The man was messing with him again!

"…the lieutenant here boxes my ears like a…"

"Colonel! How do I become a C-5?" Ed yelled, desperately trying to get the man to listen to him.

It was then that he noticed the amused grin was gone. The other man's eyes had widened and his mouth was slightly open. The blood had drained from the colonel's face, leaving him looking pale and sickly.

Then the moment passed and the dark haired man pressed his lips together and said to Hawkeye without looking at her, "Lieutenant. Fullmetal and I need to have a discussion."

The blonde woman gazed at the colonel with a curious look and Ed thought that perhaps she was just as clueless as he was. "Sir, the reports…"

"The reports will wait. Now leave us and close the door on your way out."

Hawkeye blinked at the firm command, but did as she was asked. Ed stared nervously at the closed door. It was only in important situations that Mustang took such a firm hand with his staff in the office.

"Fullmetal, have a seat."

Ed looked back at the colonel, who now had one hand extended toward the couch. The man still looked pale and seemed a little shaken as well. Deciding this wasn't the time to make problems for Mustang, Ed took a seat.

The dark haired man sat looking at Ed in silence for a long time, and the blond alchemist could almost see the other man thinking. The quiet was beginning to make Ed nervous, but he thought that it would be best to just wait. He had the colonel's attention now and that's what mattered.

"Tell me, I didn't just hear you say you wanted to be a C-5," Mustang said flatly, but Ed also thought there was a note of pleading in the other man's tone.

"That's right," Ed confirmed.

The older man looked away, blinking his eyes and shaking his head. "Edward…"

The blond swallowed involuntarily. The man had never called him 'Edward' before.(1) Ed, but never Edward… And then there was the _way_ the man had said it…

The colonel rubbed his eyes, then ran a hand through his hair. "Why? What could possibly motivate you to want to be a C-5?"

"There are some research journals that I want to read, and I was told that I wouldn't be able to unless I was a C-5."

Mustang looked at him incredulously for a moment, then his eyes widened slightly. "You don't know, do you…?" The man whispered.

"What do you mean?"

"You don't know what a C-5 is." This was more of a statement than a question.

Ed thought about it for a moment. No, he didn't know, but should he just pretend he did or would it be better to come clean with the man? Finally he decided to be straight about it and shook his head. "No, not really… The guy at the library said that it was some sort of rank for State Alchemists, but I'd never heard about it before."

Mustang let out a long breath and nodded. "Okay… well, that makes more sense. Trust me Ed, no report is worth becoming a C-5."

"_Al_ is worth anything."

The dark haired man shook his head. "Not that."

There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Ed asked, "So… What _is_ a C-5?"

Sighing, Mustang leaned forward in his chair and said, "Like you heard, a C-5 is a rank for State Alchemists. There are five ranks, one through five. Like most State Alchemists you are a C-1. I'd say that over half of the State Alchemists have no idea there is such a ranking system."

"What does the 'C' stand for?" Ed asked, interrupting the colonel.

"Certified."

"Certified?"

The older man nodded, got up and walked to a locked filing cabinet. He opened it and dug through it for a moment before taking out a folder. Mustang flipped though a few papers, then handed one of them to Ed.

"Look here," the colonel said and pointed.

Ed scanned the paper for a moment, then read where the other man had requested.

**NAME:** EDWARD ELRIC  
**RANK:** MAJOR  
**STATE ALCHEMIST:** YES  
**ALCHEMY TITLE:** FULLMETAL  
**CERTIFICATION LEVEL:** ONE

"How come I've never heard of this before?" Ed asked, handing the paper back to the colonel.

"Because…" Mustang turned and put the file away, locking the cabinet back up before returning to his chair.

"Because?" Ed prodded.

Sighing, the colonel just shook his head. "It isn't something that is talked about. The training is… difficult… and…"

"AND?" Ed asked after the man had been silent for a minute. The older man had gone strangely quiet.

"And…" Mustang breathed. "…and it just… it's not for you."

"What?" Ed exclaimed. "No way! I need those journals. Al…"

"Needs you around!" the colonel said sharply.

"Are you saying that if I go to this training I'll never come back?"

"That's always a possibility, but no, that wasn't what I was meaning."

"Then what?"

"I'm sorry… I can't tell you," Mustang whispered and looked away.

"What?" Ed yelled. "Why not?"

"Only those who are a C-2 and up are allowed access to that information."

The young alchemist growled. "Well, you know about all this. I can tell you do. Can't you give me _some_ information? Just a little bit?"

"I am giving you information. The fact that I'm actually _talking_ to you about it is information, and I wouldn't even do that if you hadn't just told me you wanted to be a C-5. The best advice I can give you is sign up for C-2 training and make your decision after that. You'll at least know if you really want to sign up for C-5 training or not."

"Wait, wait, are you saying that I could just skip all the other levels and go in for C-5 training?"

The colonel frowned. "I didn't say that, but yes you could, because the levels aren't about…"

"Then that's what I want to do! Who do I talk to about this?" Ed asked eagerly.

"Ed…"

"Don't worry about it, if I can become a State Alchemist at twelve, I can pass this. No big deal."

"Fullmetal!" Mustang roared.

Ed closed his mouth and looked at the colonel in surprise. It wasn't like the man to get so upset…

"Being a C-4 or a C-5 is no walk in the park. It's forever. Whoever trains you will be your commanding officer for the rest of your life. What if you aren't trained by someone who is willing to let you go looking for the stone? What about after you find a way to restore Al? It is very difficult to quit. Things are never the same after you finish certification training, even if it is only for a C-2."

Ed thought this over carefully then said, "How will I know who will train me?"

"People of the correct military rank and certification level apply to be on the list. Trainers are generally chosen from that list unless you have someone in mind. You could request that person if they meet the qualifications. That is, if they're willing to do it."

"What makes a person qualified to train someone to be a C-5?" Ed asked.

"The person has to be at least a colonel and they need to be a C-3."

The short alchemist's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "Why a C-3?"

Mustang shook his head. "There's no way a C-4 or a C-5 could train someone and a C-1 or a C-2 aren't trained for it. It is in C-3 training that you learn how to train someone else for levels two through five."

"What kind of stuff do they teach a C-3?"

"I'm sorry. I can't say."

Ed glared. "Can't or won't?"

When the colonel said nothing, Ed asked, "What level are you?"

Mustang was quiet for a moment, then said, "That's a very rude thing to ask. I'd advise you not to go around asking people that question."

The blond blinked. "How is that rude?"

"Someone who has been through certification training doesn't exactly want to talk about it. It isn't as big of a deal when it's with someone who doesn't understand what the training consists of, but… well… just trust me on the fact that anyone who has gone through certification training would think the question was too personal."

"So you're not going to tell me?" Ed couldn't help it. Obviously Mustang had been through certification training, and the teen was dying to know which one.

For a moment the young alchemist thought Mustang was going to ignore him, but then the older man said simply, "C-3."

The two alchemists looked at each other in silence for a few minutes. Ed's mind was going a million miles an hour. As a colonel and a C-3, Mustang was qualified to train him. The blond wasn't sure if he really wanted the man to be his superior officer forever, but the dark haired man really did give him a lot of leeway. Besides, he was already used to working with Mustang. It wouldn't be that big of a deal.

"Colonel?"

"Hm?"

"What if I wanted you to train me?"

If he had thought the man looked shocked and pale before, it was nothing to how the colonel looked now. "You can't be serious…"

"Why not? I mean, I'm already under you and you let me search for the stone… why are you looking at me like that?"

"You don't know what you're asking," the man sounded absolutely terrified.

"Well if you'd tell me then I'd know."

"I can't. I already told you that," Mustang explained. "Ed, you don't want to do this. It isn't worth it. I told you, you're never the same afterward, but that doesn't just apply to the trainee. It also applies to the one who is doing the training."

Ed opened his mouth to speak, but the colonel cut him off.

"The training also takes months. The exact time depends on the person being trained. You won't be able to see or talk to Al in all that time. And even though you'll have unlimited access to everything afterwards, you won't have the freedom you have now."

"Unlimited access?" the blond alchemist asked eagerly.

"Are you not listening to a word I'm saying?"

"Yes I am. I think it's worth it. I already said I'd do anything to get Al's body back and I meant it. Now, will you train me or not?"

For a long time the dark-haired man silently studied Ed's eyes, then asked, "Anything? You would do _anything_ to get Al's body back? Because, Ed… To become a C-5… that's _exactly_ what you're going to have to do."

* * *

1) This actually isn't true if you're watching the English version. In chapter 13 Roy does call Ed 'Edward', but since this story is slightly AU anyway, I'm not going to worry about those finer points.


	2. West

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Two**

**West**

"Why do we have to go in person to get these signed?" Ed asked.

Mustang, who had been looking down at the papers in his hands, turned his gaze toward the blond. "Because no one just _requests_ to be trained as a C-5. People… few… very few… request C-4 training, but never C-5."

Ed shifted in his chair and looked over at the fuhrer's secretary. The brunette woman was lazily talking to someone on the phone. Sighing, he looked back at his superior officer. "Why not? And if no one wants to become a C-5 then why are there people that are that rank?"

"C-5 training is usually used on State Alchemists who have become criminals or have done something traitorous. The training helps insure their… loyalty…"

"And?" Ed prodded, trying to get more information, but the colonel didn't say anything else. The older man only looked back down and gave the paperwork he was holding a despondent look.

They sat in silence as they continued to wait for the fuhrer's other meeting to end. Despite how much he was trying to seem nonchalant about this, the whole idea was making him very nervous. Ever since their conversation two weeks ago Colonel Mustang had been jumpy, antsy, and depressed. Everyone had noticed it, but he wouldn't tell anyone what was bothering him.

Then, three days ago, Ed had been called into the dark-haired man's office. Mustang wouldn't look at him while he spoke, but he asked in short, clipped sentences if Ed was really serious about becoming a C-5. When he had said he was, the colonel tried again to get him to take C-2 training first, but when Ed had refused, Mustang had reluctantly agreed to being his trainer.

It wasn't that Ed didn't _want _to take C-2 training; it was just that he didn't want to waste the time. All the blond cared about was getting this over with so that he'd have the clearance to look into any file he wanted. Then perhaps he'd be able to get Al's body back. The longer Ed spent dallying, the more time Al had to be trapped in that hollow shell.

His brother had, of course, tried to talk him out of the training as well. When Ed had told Al what Mustang had said, his younger brother had freaked out and said that he didn't want Ed to have to go through something so horrible that even the colonel was afraid of it.

It wasn't that Ed wanted to leave his brother. It was the opposite. Truly, he hated the idea, but if a few months of separation could dramatically raise the possibility of them getting Al's body back then he had to try. He had to do it.

They had come to an uneasy agreement, but only after Ed had argued his case so often that Al couldn't stand listening to it any longer. Ed would go receive the training, and Al would continue to research here.

It was a good plan.

There was nothing to worry about.

After all, it was just _training._

How bad could it be?

"The fuhrer will see you now," a woman's cool voice said, and Ed looked up to find the secretary looking down at him.

_I can do this,_ Ed thought as the brunette guided them into the fuhrer's spacious office.

The fuhrer was an older, but lively, man and he greeted them warmly before inviting them to sit down on a couch. When they did, he sat on a chair near them and said, "So, what brings you here today?"

"Sir…" Mustang began, but faltered slightly before continuing. "Major Edward Elric has requested C-5 training. He has also requested that I be his trainer."

At the short statement, the fuhrer frowned and looked thoughtfully at Ed. The short alchemist thought the man looked startled, but wasn't sure. This made him feel even more uneasy. Was it really so bad that everyone who heard it became seriously quiet?

The silence stretched on uncomfortably for a few minutes before the fuhrer finally spoke. "Well… That is an… odd… request. What is your current certification level, young man?"

"One," Ed answered.

"I see… well… It might be helpful if you took C-2 training first before making such a request."

"No!" Ed yelled a little more sharply than he had meant to. "I can't spare the time. I just want to do this and get it out of the way."

The older man sighed heavily. "Major, you don't even know what this training entails."

"I know enough. I know that it will be difficult and that it changes people in some way, but it's only for a few months. I can handle it."

More silence, then the fuhrer turned to Mustang. "Colonel, what do you think about this?"

"Sir, I agree with you. I believe it would be in Fullmetal's best interest if he were to first receive C-2 training so that he could make an informed decision." Mustang's eyes darted to where Ed was sitting.

The old man nodded thoughtfully. "But still you have decided to accept his request to be his trainer?"

"Yes, sir."

"And why is that, if you feel so strongly against it?" Ed had a feeling Mustang was being judged by these questions; his motives being tested to see if he was… what? Worthy? He wasn't sure… But it seemed there was more behind these questions than mere curiosity.

The colonel's eyes flitted to Ed for a moment, then returned to the military commander. "Because, sir, he requested it. I have had Major Elric under my command for quite a few years. I know him rather well already, and would hate to lose him as a subordinate." A pause, then Mustang said quietly, "And also because I would rather it be me than someone else."

The fuhrer frowned slightly. "You have always cared too much about your subordinates Flame Alchemist. Even in the war you cared too much. Are you sure you want to go through with this? You know that once the training is complete it cannot be undone."

_Cared too much about his subordinates? _Ed thought. _The training can't be undone? _He supposed thefFuhrer must be talking about the fact that he'd have to work under Mustang for the rest of his time with the state.

"I know sir…" Mustang replied softly.

The fuhrer's eyes took on a stern look. "You are a C-3; you know what you're responsibilities will be toward him. I assume you've thought this over very hard. It will change you, change your life."

Ed watched as the colonel swallowed hard and nodded.

"I know…" he answered hoarsely.

The young alchemist's heart was starting to beat more quickly. Maybe he didn't want to do this… Maybe he _should_ take the extra time and get C-2 training… But the thought of backing out now pricked at his pride and he refused to do it.

The fuhrer looked again at Ed seriously for a moment, then grinned slightly. "You know major, there are a few very good looking women on the list of available trainers. You might prefer one of them."

Ed looked at the man in confusion. What did it matter what gender they were? When the teenager didn't say anything the grin slipped from the older man's face and he said briskly, "Alright then, let me see your paperwork."

They handed the man their documents and waited while he reviewed them. After almost fifteen minutes of silence the fuhrer signed the forms and looked up at them. "When do you want to begin?"

"As soon as possible," Ed blurted in a rush. He didn't want to waste another minute.

The fuhrer looked from the short alchemist to Mustang, who was running a shaky hand through his fine black hair, then back to Ed.

"They will need a week's worth of notice and it will take you three days to get there by train, so you will need to leave in four days from now. I will have Ms. Douglass call them after this meeting as well as sending these documents out to them today."

The fuhrer stood, indicating that the meeting was over. After Ed and the colonel both stood, the commander shook each of their hands and said, "I wish you both luck. I'm sure that you will both be a great benefit to the state once your training is complete."

"Thank you, sir," Mustang said weakly and saluted.

Ed nodded and, after a moment, saluted as well. "Yeah, thanks."

_I think..._

Ed took another bite out of the meat filled bun and looked out the window. He'd rarely been out west, and even then it wasn't very far. Most of the time his travels took him to the east or south, and of course he'd grown up in the north…(1)

* * *

"These mountains sure are something, aren't they?" Ed asked in amazement, but received only a grunt for a reply. He gazed at his traveling companion and frowned. They had been on the train for two days and for both of those Mustang had hardly said anything. Ed had even left himself open for short jokes, but the man hadn't even tried to take the opportunity to mock him.

Sighing, the blond looked around. Their train car was empty, most of the people having gotten off the day before. Apparently hardly anyone came out this far west. He took another bite from his lunch and thought about Al.

They always traveled together…

Two days and he already missed his younger brother fiercely…

"Sure is strange to have the car all to ourselves huh? Do you think we'll pick up anyone else before we get there?" Ed asked, in an attempt to engage the other man in some sort of conversation, and trying to not think about missing Al.

The colonel looked up wearily and answered softly, "I don't know."

"Yeah, me either. You want a bun?" the young alchemist asked, glad to get a response to his previous question, but the other man just shook his head and looked down at the book he was holding. Ed was dying to know what was written in the book, but the colonel wouldn't let him look at it. The blond had even once tried to read it while the man was asleep, but there was a strap that kept the book closed. That wouldn't be a problem normally, of course, but the strap had an alchemy array that kept it from being opened by the wrong person.

A very interesting array.

Ed had never seen one like it before… He'd tried to puzzle it out, but had been unsuccessful. But the book itself was another mystery. The first time Ed had seen the small book with the plain brown cover, he had asked what it was, but the only thing Mustang would say was that it was a training manual.

'_So you're studying?'_ Ed had asked.

'_You could say that. It's more of a reference guide since every trainer and every trainee are different.'_

Ed had asked more questions but the older man had refused to answer them.

"So how long is this training going to take again?" the short teen asked.

"It really just depends."

"On what?"

Mustang looked up from his book, dark shadows under his eyes making him look exhausted, and said, "On you."

* * *

1 – Note that the author generally puts Rizembool to the north in all her stories. While she knows this is incorrect, she still likes to do it.


	3. The Training Facility

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Three**

**The Training Facility**

Ed stretched and yawned loudly as he stepped off the train. The air was cool, but that was to be expected this far into the mountains. The remote train station was devoid of human activity, except for two men standing near a car. One, a man with shoulder length brown hair and dressed in a completely black suit, was leaning casually against a black car. The other, a man with short dishwater blond hair and wearing a completely white suit, was looking around as if slightly nervous.

When the colonel began walking toward the two, Ed followed. The brunet watched them approach, then said, "Colonel Roy Mustang?" Mustang nodded. The man looked at Ed. "Major Edward Elric?" When Ed nodded, the man pushed himself away from the car and said, "Good. I've been waiting for you. My name is Daniel Roberts." The man looked over at his companion who instantly walked over to the car and opened the back door.

Mr. Roberts extended his hand. "If you please…" The colonel nodded, handed his bag to the blond man, and got into the car. The man shut the door, then opened the trunk and put Mustang's luggage in before taking Ed's and doing the same.

"I can let myself in," Ed said, waving the other man away from the door. The blond man looked panicked for a moment, but a word from Daniel soothed him.

When Ed got into the car he leaned over and whispered. "These people are kinda freaky…"

Mustang looked at him for a moment, then asked, "You think so?"

The short alchemist nodded and opened his mouth to say something, but stopped when the other two men got into the car. Ed shut his mouth and sat back in his seat. He didn't want to make problems, at least not on his first day. No, he wanted this to go as quickly as possible. Mustang had said it was up to him how long it took, and Ed didn't want it taking any longer than necessary.

* * *

It was almost an hour before they neared their destination. The 'training facility' was like a small town built just for this purpose, Mr. Roberts had explained. The car slowed as they neared a tall twenty foot fence and a guard asked them for some sort of clearance code and identification before he would let them in.

Ed pressed his face against the window as they drove beneath the gate and when they passed it he turned around in his seat to get a better look.

"What's with that fence?" Ed asked curiously.

The brunet turned around in his seat and looked at Ed before saying, "It is to keep those who don't belong here, out, and those who need to stay here, in."

"Yeah, but someone could just climb it right?"

Daniel smiled patently and said, "It's an_ electric_ fence."

"Oh…" he said, and looked back at the gate. It suddenly seemed a little more ominous. The blond turned back to look at the man. "Do many people try to leave here without permission?" Ed asked, feeling uneasy with this new development.

Daniel put that same patent smile on and said, "Usually we get the State Alchemists that have 'gone bad'. To those who haven't been fully trained this place is the same as a maximum security prison. You, major, are a very rare specimen. We've never had someone _request_ C-5 training. Of course there are a few C-4s being trained here as well, but they aren't here for very long."

"But…" his brow crinkled in thought, "C-5s have unlimited access to all military files don't they? Why do they allow that if the only ones trained as C-5s are criminals?"

Mr. Roberts chuckled, "Oh, they aren't considered criminals after they've finished their training. When they're trained they are considered loyal dogs of the military that will follow their master's commands without hesitation. If they are told not to do something, they won't."

Ed swallowed hard and looked at the colonel, but Mustang wouldn't meet his gaze. '_Loyal dogs of the military that would follow their master's commands without_ _hesitation.'_ As a State Alchemist he was already used to being referred to as a dog, but that second part…? It made him feel apprehensive; nervous about what was going to happen.

Up until now he had been able to blow off all of Mustangs worries, but now it seemed more real… What would happen to him here? The blond looked back to Mr. Roberts, but the other man had already turned around in his seat.

Sighing, Ed looked out the window once again.

To say that the training facility was like a small town was an overstatement; it was more like a large university campus or something. There were some houses, but not many. Most of the buildings were large official looking buildings, although a few looked like they could be apartment buildings. Perhaps for the people that worked here? Ed didn't know.

As they passed one of the larger buildings, Ed could see a park further away. It even looked like it had a pond, but he wasn't sure from the distance. There were trees and bushes dotting the sidewalks, helping somewhat to provide a 'town' type of feeling, rather than a business complex.

There were people walking about as well. Ed noticed that everyone he saw wore white, gray, or black clothing. His gaze flitted to the two men in the front of the car and eyed their clothes.

Strange.

Very strange…

Ed was about to ask about it when the car stopped in front of a large brick building. "This is it," Mr. Roberts said. The blond man who had been driving the car got out and opened the door for his brunet companion, then opened the door for Mustang. Ed didn't wait to see if the courtesy would be extended to him, and opened his own door.

"William will take your bags where they need to go. Please follow me inside," Daniel said, then started up the stairs that led to the entrance.

Mustang immediately followed their guide, but Ed stopped and looked toward the blond man. William was docilely taking their luggage out of the trunk. The young alchemist didn't think this man had the look of someone who was tame…

Again, he thought of how strange these men were. Something just seemed… off… but he really didn't know how to exp..."

"Fullmetal," Mustang's voice interrupted his thoughts.

"Yeah, yeah… I'm coming…" he said, and started up the stairs.

* * *

Mr. Roberts sat forward in his chair and picked up one of the papers on his desk. "As I said before major, you are quite the unusual one, as I've never heard of anyone requesting this training, and I have been the director of this facility for a long time. That is why I decided to come pick you up myself instead of having someone else do it. But your request isn't the only thing that makes you unique. The fact that you are fifteen also struck my interest."

"What? Are you saying I'm not old enough?" Ed growled irritably. He didn't like it when people treated him like a kid.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. "Well… considering what part of the training consists of…" he stopped, then shrugged. "I suppose if you're mature enough to handle being a State Alchemist, you aren't too young for that, but this training was designed for full grown adults…" The man never had a chance to finish.

"WHO ARE YOU CALLING SO SHORT HE'D NEVER BE ABLE TO BE CALLED AN ADULT!" Ed raged.

The director watched in calm silence as the short alchemist seethed and ranted, and soon Ed began to feel undeniably stupid. It was the _look_ the man was giving him. The ranting hadn't fazed him at all…

"Are you finished?" Daniel asked blandly.

"Yeah…" Ed grunted and looked away.

The short teen glared at Mustang, expecting some sort of smirking, but there was nothing. Ed dropped the glare and cast a concerned look at his commanding officer. The man really did seem scared…

"Now then, there is a note here from the fuhrer saying that you refused C-2 training. This means you'll be at a slight disadvantage in a few things; but I will explain what you need to do when we begin the introductory session to your training. After that all the rules belong to your trainer."

He paused as if expecting questions, but when none came he continued. "We usually start the collaring as soon as the trainer and trainee come in, but if you'd like we can wait until tomorrow. Give you a little more time to decide if it is what you want."

Ed shook his head. "No! I've decided. I want to do this, and the sooner we start, the sooner we can finish."

Mr. Roberts turned to look at Mustang. "Do you agree?"

For a moment the colonel just sat there, then finally he nodded.

"Very well," Daniel said briskly, then stood and walked toward the door. "Please follow me."

* * *

The two alchemists were led to a large sitting room where Daniel indicated they should sit. "My staff will need another half hour to complete the preparations, so I hope you will make yourself comfortable here. I will have lunch brought out to you, as I'm sure you're tired from your journey."

They both nodded.

"Before that, I will tell you a few things you should know. Up until you enter that room you have the option of backing out. However, once inside, you forfeit that right. Your trainer, the colonel, will say a few things to you and then ask you a couple of questions. Your answers to these questions _must_ be in the affirmative."

Ed opened his mouth to ask a question, but the director rode over whatever the young alchemist was going to say.

"It all might seem ritualistic, but there is a purpose to why things are done the way they are. It prepares your mind for what is going to happen, and your answers in the affirmative lets your subconscious know you are doing this of your own free will. It makes the training easier and more effective."

"But what about all those criminals? It wasn't of their own free will to come here was it?" Ed asked.

"The other alternative for them was death. So, yes, it was their choice."

"What happens if I don't agree? What if I don't answer in the affirmative?" He just had to know.

The director stared at him silently for a moment, then said, "You might not survive the training. This has been proven over many years. Please don't try it. It is all for the benefit of the trainer and the trainee."

"You mean I could die?"

"Physically… mentally… both…"

Ed glanced at the colonel, then back to Mr. Roberts. "How is it for the trainer's benefit?"

Daniel looked at him blandly. "The trainer, in his subconscious, needs to know that you've chosen this and that he or she is helping you achieve something you want. No matter how difficult it gets. It helps the trainer survive mentally," he paused for a moment then said, "perhaps physically as well."

There was silence for a moment before Ed asked, "If this is so hard on the trainer, then what do they get out of it? I mean… they aren't getting certified…"

"After the initial process, you are free to ask him. If you had already been through C-2 training you would know. You still have the option to do that."

Ed stared at the man for a long time. Maybe he should… maybe it would be better to take the time to do that, but… well… he was already here, and he'd look really dumb going back without doing what he'd come to do…

"Alright then," Mr. Roberts said, as if reading Ed's thoughts. "I have a few things to attend to, I will be back shortly." And with that, he was gone.

For a while, the two alchemists sat in silence, each absorbed in their own thoughts.

"You know… I never really dated as much as I let on…"

Ed turned his head and looked at the colonel in confusion. What was the man talking about?

"I mean… everyone always thought I was such a playboy, but really that wasn't true," the dark haired man said a bit despondently.

_Why is he telling me this?_ Ed wondered.

"It's not that I don't like women, because I do, I just always put advancing in the ranks first. I thought… well, I always thought I would get married someday… I'm sure I could have found someone if I'd really wanted to, but it just wasn't something I thought about a lot."

The young alchemist was beginning to feel very uncomfortable. The colonel had been so quiet during their whole trip and now he was babbling…

"I just want you to know that I didn't except this because of… some things… that will probably take place during the training. I'm not like that. I'm definitely a ladies man…"

_He's so nervous... I wonder if he even knows what he's saying..._ the blond thought. Ed was spared the colonel's ramblings by a young woman dressed in white who was carrying a tray of food for them. As soon as the girl came into sight, Mustang clammed up and didn't say anything else until the director returned.


	4. The Collar

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Four**

**The Collar**

Ed stopped and looked cautiously into the room. There were five people waiting for them. They were all dressed in loose gray pants and gray shirts with long sleeves, and on the upper right arm of the sleeves was a band of color.

Red.

Whatever that meant...

There were two tables in the room. One near the wall with some…he felt a flash of panic…needles…and other stuff…. The other table was smaller and stood near the center of the room. On it was a small knife and silver circlet.

A collar.

A _collar_?

"You can still back out," Roberts said quietly. "But once you cross the threshold and we shut the door there is no turning back." Ed turned his gaze to Mustang. The older man's eyes seemed to plead with him to decide against it. Ed pressed his lips together in determination, and, without a word, he walked into the room and shut the door himself.

Roberts turned to Mustang and said, "You have everything memorized?" The colonel nodded. "Good, then we can begin." Roberts looked back at Ed and pointed to the center of the room where a circle had been drawn. "Please stand in that circle." Slowly, Ed did as he was told. When he reached the middle of the room he let out a breath he hadn't been aware that he was holding.

"Now take off your clothes and lay them on the table."

"_What_!" Ed exclaimed and looked around. Two of Robert's assistants were female…

"Take off your clothes and lay them on the table."

Hesitantly, he did as he was told. First came the long red coat, then the silver lined black jacket, then the black tank top. Even that much was uncomfortable. He didn't relish the thought of showing the scars and automail to people he didn't know… Hesitantly, he began undoing the wide brown belt, then pulled it slowly through the belt loops. He could hear the hissing sound it made as it slid against his pants. The metal buckle clunked on the table when he laid it next to the other clothes.

That was where he paused. Ed felt the blood rush to his cheeks as he thought about getting completely naked in front of six people he didn't know and the normally arrogant man who was his commanding officer. But as the silence dragged on, Ed thought that they would probably wait all day without ever saying anything.

Swallowing hard, Ed undid the button on his pants and slid the zipper down. He had pulled his tight leather pants down half way before he remembered the boots. Grunting in irritation he sat on the floor, yanked the heavy boots off and tossed them up onto the table before forcing the pants over his feet. His socks caught onto the pants and were halfway off by the time Ed yanked them off.

Blushing furiously, he stood and, keeping his eyes to the floor, slowly pulled off the gray boxers he was wearing. He wadded them up with his pants and socks and laid the clothes on the table. When the leather pants clunked on the wood, Ed remembered his watch and thought that they'd better not mess with it.

"Your hair tie as well," the director said.

_Okay..._ Ed thought in confusion as he slipped the black tie out of his braid.

"Very good. I will leave the rest to you Colonel Mustang."

Ed, his eyes still on the floor, listened to the sound of Mustang's foot steps as he crossed the room. There was a scraping sound as the colonel picked up the silver collar. Ed looked over and saw that the man's hand was shaking.

"Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Edward Elric," Mustang whispered in an unsteady voice. "Face me and look into my eyes."

He swallowed, turned, and stared up at the colonel. The taller man looked pale and serious, and Ed almost jumped when he felt a hand brush back a few wisps of his hair from his neck, then something soft surrounding his throat.

_Soft?_ Ed was sure that it had been a metal collar he'd seen.

Mustang didn't fasten the collar around Ed's neck. Instead he let it hang there while he picked up the knife. Ed moved his head to look down, but the colonel grabbed his chin. "Keep looking at me," the older man whispered.

Ed looked back into Mustang's eyes, then saw the obsidian eyes wince slightly. The sound of the knife dropping back onto the table sounded and suddenly Ed could feel the colonel's fingers holding the collar once again. Something warm dripped onto his collarbone and it trickled wetly down his skin.

Blood?

Mustang's blood?

Ed wanted to ask, but didn't. He was sure that he'd just be told to stay quiet anyway.

"Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Edward Elric, I, Flame Alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang put this collar around your neck as a sign that you have accepted the responsibility of a State Alchemist certified at the fifth level, and with that, the burden of training."

The colonel paused a moment and Ed could see he was thinking about the next thing he had to say.

"This collar is not only a symbol of your training, but it is also a representation of the new position you will hold; not only in the military, but also in the relationship we will form from this day on."

He paused.

"Do you understand and accept this, Edward Elric?"

Ed's mind was reeling. The collar was a symbol of his new position? Collars were for… for… _animals_…and in relation to the military and to Mustang? What the hell? He swallowed painfully. No, he wasn't understanding all of this, but he could probably ask about it later…

"Yes," Ed answered softly.

He felt the collar being hooked together and he could see a faint glow on Mustang's face for a moment. An array had just been activated. Ed wondered if there was one on the collar, and if so, what was it for? At Mustang's next words, all thoughts of an array left his head.

"As your trainer and new master, I understand the responsibilities of caring for a C-5 and will do my best to fulfill those responsibilities until the day of my death or that of yours."

_Master? What the fuck?_ Ed wanted to ask questions; demand answers… but the shock of it all kept him silent.

Mr. Roberts walked up beside Mustang and said, "Colonel, if you'll just step over to that table… Don't worry, I promise they've been doing this for years."

The colonel nodded, then looked at Ed and whispered, "Stay here." Ed nodded in confusion. He just didn't understand anything that was happening…

Mustang walked to the table and sat down, his back to Ed. Ed looked to the director, but the man was already walking away from him. Ed reached up and wiped his skin where he had felt the drip. Pulling his hand away, he saw a dark red smear.

It _was_ blood... He'd hoped it wasn't.

Again Ed reached up, but this time it was to touch the collar. When his fingers met cool metal he blinked in surprise. The inside of the collar against his neck felt nothing like metal… Running his fingers lightly along the smooth surface of the right side, Ed felt around until he touched an array engraved into the metal. This part of the collar was also wet… He looked at his hand and wasn't surprised to see more red.

Feeling around on the other side of the collar, Ed's fingers touched another engraved array. What he wouldn't have given to study the arrays before Mustang had attached the fucking thing on him… Ed felt his anger rise. _Master?_ _No way in hell!_ He was going to set this straight after…

A yell from the table near the wall caught his attention. The shout was followed by a loud groan. One of the females said loud enough for Ed to hear, "This is going to hurt for a while after, but the initial pain is the worst. You shouldn't worry though, he's the best; been doing this forever practically, so it shouldn't take too long."

Ed wasn't sure what they were doing to the man, but whatever it was didn't seem pleasant…

* * *

Despite the woman's admonitions that it wouldn't take long, Ed was sure he had been standing there for at least an hour before a man's voice said, "Alright, we're just about done. Just need to do a small transmutation to bind the ink to your skin, or else it will fade rapidly. You don't want to have to do this again."

A small flash of light followed the man's statement, and then the man spoke again. "There you go. That also helped with the bleeding, so you won't need any bandages. They'll be tender for a few days though, so try not to over do it."

Ed saw Mustang nod, then get up from the table and make his way back to where he was standing. The colonel's face still looked pale, but he also looked tired and worn out. Ed was about to ask what had happened when the director joined them and said, "Come with me and I'll lead you to your room."

Mustang nodded and started following the man, but stopped when he noticed that Ed wasn't following. When the colonel looked back, Ed said, "What? I'm not going out there naked!"

The colonel sighed in exasperation. "Yes you will. Now come on."

"Hell no!" Ed said and moved his hands instinctively to cover himself, despite the fact that he'd been uncovered the whole time.

Mustang closed his eyes, in frustration or exhaustion Ed didn't know. "I really don't want to start this here. You'll be doing us both a favor if you just come."

Again Ed was confused. Start _what_ here?

The colonel opened his mouth to say something else, but was cut off by Roberts. "Perhaps we should just have him delivered to your room. This isn't an uncommon thing to happen at this point, and we prefer the first lesson to be in a closed environment." Mustang stared at Ed long and hard before he nodded.

A movement to Ed's right caught his eye and he saw one of the men walking toward him with a small syringe. Ed growled. He _hated_ needles and there was no fucking way he was going to let that man stick him with one. Clapping his hands together, Ed dropped to his knees and slammed his hands to the ground. See how long the guy would be able to walk on a broken up floor!

Nothing happened.

Ed blinked, then tried again.

Nothing.

Panic filled him as he tried once more with no success. Suddenly a sharp pain flared near his shoulder blade and Ed saw that in his confusion he had let the man get too close. The world moved and swam in his vision. He lifted his hands from the floor to try again, but instead he fell forward. He could hear the director's voice, though it seemed far away.

"Don't worry; he'll only be out for ten, maybe fifteen minutes."

The cool ground against his body and cheek seemed distant as he closed his eyes and welcomed the darkness.


	5. The First Lesson

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Five**

**The First Lesson**

It was dark.

But then, Ed was sure that had to be because his eyes were still closed… He tried to open them, but his eyelids felt so heavy. His whole body felt heavy... Ed felt groggy and his skin prickled as if every part of him were slowly waking up with his mind.

"I really don't know if I can do this…" the colonel's voice said, and it sounded loud in his ears. Ed wanted to tell him to be quiet so that maybe he could sleep more, his body seemed to crave it, but he didn't say anything.

He couldn't.

There was a moment of silence, then another voice spoke, "Actually, I _was_ a bit surprised that you accepted his request. Most of the C-3s who ask to be put on the list of trainers seem to have some sort of...well...fetish...for this sort of thing, if you catch my drift."

There was more silence and Ed sighed internally. His mind simply didn't want to attach itself to anything that was being said. He felt fuzzy and heavy...

"But not you…very curious… Most people decide to become C-3s for one of two reasons. One, they have some sort of fetish, as I stated before, or two, they want to climb the ranks. We all know that having a level three certification looks fabulous on the military files even if the certification is never used for training."

Ed tried to understand what was going on, but his brain was so hazy that he couldn't seem to get a grasp on it. He felt sure that this conversation was important, but he just couldn't focus on what they were saying.

"You know, I've had a few trainers come in here, ones that were mostly concerned with climbing the ranks, and many of them just lost it. Completely. Their minds broke before the ones they were training. I think you'll be alright, though. You have more than one reason to be doing this, and that is good. No, no… don't say it. I _know_ you said you were doing this to help the boy, and because you thought it would be better that it was you rather than someone else, but please… I'm no fool. We both know your chances of promotion skyrocket when you have a C-5 under your command."

There was another moment of silence, then the other voice, Mr. Roberts... Ed's brain finally was able to put a name to it... spoke again.

"He's still a boy. That works to your favor, you know that right? The mind of a child or a teenager is much easier to break than that of an adult."

"You don't know him," Mustang said shortly.

"True. But no matter how mature he acts, Major Elric _is _still a child."

"He should have never asked for this…" Mustang whispered softly; so softly that Ed barely heard it.

"I agree, but he did, and there is no going back now. You won't be doing him any favors by going easy on him. Just do what you were trained to do."

"I don't know… I don't know if I can do this…"

Ed finally forced his eyes open and thought through the haze, _Didn't he just say that before?_ He wasn't sure. Even though he'd been listening to them, he couldn't remember all that had been said, even moments before. He was having a hard time focusing on anything. But at least he had gotten his eyes open and was trying desperately to keep them that way.

Ed saw the blurry figures of the colonel and the director. Then Mr. Roberts handed something to Mustang. "Take this. Keep a journal of what happens here and how you feel. Write in it often, and read through it just as often. It will help you keep your sanity. It will also help you remember why you're here."

He blinked and suddenly his vision was clearer. The director turned and looked in his direction before saying, "Well, it seems to be wearing off. I'll leave you then." The man put a hand on Mustang's shoulder for a moment, then said, "You'll be fine," before leaving Ed's sight.

The sound of a door being closed sounded, then there was silence.

Ed groggily tried to push himself up, but failed. For a few minutes he just lay there trying to clear his head and building up enough energy to try again. When he did, Ed was able to sit up, but a wave of dizziness came over him and he thought he'd throw up. Again, he laid back down for a couple of minutes, then sat up again. This time he felt much better and was able to take in his surroundings with a clearer mind.

He was sitting on a cold metal floor. Ed ran his fingers over it, trying to guess what kind of metal it was, but finally gave up. It really didn't matter. The teen looked around, making a quick scan of the room.

There was Mustang standing beside a bed large enough to fit two people, and a nightstand beside the bed, but behind where the colonel was standing. The bed blocked quite a bit of his view of the rest of the room but near the wall parallel to the bottom of the bed was some sort of large metal cage that ran along the full length of the wall.

When Ed shifted, his skin rubbed against the cold floor in a way that reminded him that he was unclothed. Blushing furiously, Ed sat quickly, pulled his knees in and looked balefully up at the dark-haired man who just stood watching him.

"I want my fucking clothes back," Ed growled, "and I want some fucking explanations." He watched as Mustang calmly set the book he was holding down on the nightstand, then walked over to where he was sitting. The colonel crouched down and said in a soft voice, "It's time for your first lesson, Edward."

"Fuck that!" Ed said angrily, but the colonel went on as if he hadn't spoken.

"The first and most important lesson you will learn is that I am your master. I _own_ you. Until the day you die, you belong to me. You're just another possession of mine. Nothing special. Like… a sock or a pen."

Ed blinked. _Nothing special? Just another possession? _"You bastard," he growled. How dare the man say he owned him, then compare him to something like _that_.

Again, Mustang continued to talk as if Ed had said nothing. "And as we all know, property cannot possess something of its own; therefore, _you_ own nothing. Not your clothes, not the little hair tie you normally wear, not your body. Nothing."

"You'd better shut the hell up before I do it for you!" Ed yelled and raised a fist. When the colonel calmly placed one of his hands on Ed's fist, the boy raised his other hand into a fist, but Mustang simply put his other hand on that fist as well.

"Even your actions do not belong to you. As your master, it is my job to train you to act in the way that I wish you to act, because what you do reflects on me. I am responsible for anything you do, whether it be good, or bad."

"That's it! I've had enough of this!" Ed yelled angrily and tried to move one of his hands to hit the colonel, when suddenly a shock went through him and the next thing he knew he was laying on his back staring at the ceiling.

His whole body hurt… Ed wasn't even sure how to describe what had just happened.

"You see Edward, even a _pen_ is more useful than you are, because a pen does what it's supposed to, when it's supposed to."

Ed blinked at the ceiling, and suddenly the dark haired man was crouching beside him. "You, Edward Elric…" the man whispered. "… are absolutely _worthless_."

Through the pain in his body, Ed thought, _I'm not worthless!_ He had never been called _worthless_ before; nothing even close to that. He'd always been praised for what he could do… In a way he couldn't describe, it hurt to hear it. Even though it wasn't true...he knew it wasn't true.

When the pain began to subside, Ed sat up and glared at the man. "What the hell did you just do?"

Mustang ignored the question, stood up and said, "Stand up."

"Fuck you."

When the colonel stepped closer, Ed clapped his hands together and slapped them on the ground, meaning to stop the man, but nothing happened and a moment later Ed felt Mustang's hand's on him again followed by another shock.

Blinking, Ed realized he was lying on the ground again. He didn't remember how he'd gotten that way, but he remembered the pain. Even though it was fading quickly, Ed could remember the agonizing shock that had gone through his body.

Again the colonel said in that infuriatingly calm voice, "Stand up."

Ed rolled onto his stomach and pushed himself onto his hands and knees. He stayed that way for a moment, trying to make the sickening nausea go away. His eyes rested on the boots Mustang was wearing. They were different than the normal boots the man wore. These ones were made of a thick rubbery material...

Pulling his eyes away from the strange boots, Ed balled his automail hand into a fist and took a swing at the colonel's leg. Mustang dodged it easily and a moment later the colonel's hands were again on him, and once more he found himself lying painfully on the ground.

"Bastard…" Ed growled bitterly.

"From now on you'll address me as 'Master'," Mustang said simply.

"FUCK YOU!" he yelled angrily.

"Stand up," the colonel commanded calmly.

"NEVER!" Ed screamed stubbornly. He would never call that bastard 'master' and he would never submit to him. Mustang was wrong if he ever thought that inflicting pain on him would make him do what he wanted.

The colonel walked forward and looked down at Ed for a moment, then said, "Edward, you disobeying me is wrong. I'm very disappointed in you."

"I don't care!" he growled.

"When you don't do what I say, you are nothing. You have no purpose and you are worthless. To become something meaningful, you must obey me. Until then you are garbage and don't deserve to be treated like anything else."

Ed had every intention of yelling something else, but at that moment, Mustang stepped back, and pressed his hands against the floor beside him. Fiery pain shot through Ed's body and when it became too much, he passed out.

* * *

_I really don't understand how writing in this is supposed to help. I've never been one to write my thoughts or feelings in a journal, but if it will help, I'll try. _

_After three days on the train, Ed and I arrived here at the training facility. It's actually nicer than I anticipated. Of course, I'm not sure what I expected. Perhaps something like the facility north of Central where I received my C-2 and C-3 certifications... Perhaps. This place is definitely much better equipped to train C-4s and C-5s than that place..._

_Ed was anxious to get started. I wish he hadn't been. I wish he would have just waited until tomorrow. I had hoped that once he got here he'd be too nervous to go through with it._

_I was wrong..._

_The collaring went well, I suppose. Much better than I'd thought it would. Ed stripped down without much complaint, although I could tell he was nervous and embarrassed. It was strange seeing him without clothes. He has more muscle than I'd thought. The automail attachments look as though they must have been extremely painful..._

_I remembered everything I had to say. I didn't think I would. I was so nervous. I was wondering if Ed would throw a fit when he heard the words of the collaring, but he didn't. _

_A surprise. _

_He threw a tantrum when we were supposed to go and he had to be sedated. That was more of what I was expecting, and for some reason that brought me some comfort. Maybe because that is how he normally acts. I'm not sure if I'll miss that behavior or not. Perhaps after..._

_No._

_If everything goes according to my plans, Ed will act like that again, someday, but not now. Now I have to..._

_The tattooing of the arrays on my hands was especially painful. I'd heard it would hurt, but I wasn't prepared for it at all. They still sting even now. Of course I just... I was just... I just used them to... I don't even want to write it. _

_I can't believe I'm doing this. Why did I agree to this insanity? Why couldn't I talk Ed out of it, or at least into taking C-2 training, first? _

_I'd known what it would be like, but to actually begin the training... I don't know that anyone has ever told Ed he was worthless or no good. He tried to hide it, but I know it hurt him. He's a prodigy after all; he's used to being praised. It was horrible. Teasing him about his height is one thing, but this is just plain cruelty. I hope this will all be over soon. I hope Ed will break quickly. I can't bear to think of this dragging on and on..._


	6. Rules

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Six**

**Rules**

Ed moaned and rolled over onto his back. He was cold and his body ached. The floor beneath him was hard and he... Suddenly, memories of the night before flooded into his mind and his eyes flew open. The first thing that caught his sight was a dull-gray metal ceiling.

Metal...

Ed squeezed his eyes shut and opened them again before lifting his hand to rub at his eyes. With a sigh, he raised his automail hand up as if to touch it...

At least...

He'd meant to do that, but nothing happened.

He frowned in confusion and he glanced over to his side. Where his automail arm should have been, there was nothing. Panic began to rise in him as he realized his automail arm was gone.

His eyes shifted and he caught sight of heavy metal bars beside him. Caged... His apprehension grew as he remembered the two times the day before that he'd tried to use alchemy but nothing had happened. That was frightening enough, and normally he'd just revert to drawing arrays if someone took his arm, but if clapping his hands together hadn't worked, then what guarantee was there that drawing an array would work either? Besides, he didn't have anything to draw an array with...

Footsteps met his ears and a moment later those strange heavy rubber boots came into his sight. Ed looked up to see Mustang staring down at him through the cage. The man was dressed in loose black pants and a black long-sleeved shirt. The only color that was to be seen was a band of red on the right sleeve. He said nothing, simply stared at Ed for a moment, then walked away.

Angrily, Ed sat up, then groaned when he felt the stiffness in his body. Looking down at himself, he realized he was still naked, but if that wasn't enough, his left leg was missing too! Turning, Ed grabbed one of the bars of the cage and stared out to where Mustang had sat in a chair and was reading that little book of his.

"Where's my arm and leg!" he demanded and glanced down again. Not only did he feel angry, but he felt humiliated as well. There was simply no way to cover himself well enough for it to matter... When he got no answer, Ed looked up and yelled, "HEY! I'm talking to you!"

Still, Mustang ignored him. Glaring, Ed turned around and pressed his back against the bars. Well, this way at least he could hide his front... He tried to think of some way out of this situation, but nothing was coming. As he thought, his mind traveled back to what Mustang had said last night about being his master.

What a load of shit! He was his own master! No one commanded him!

Growling angrily, Ed pounded his fist on the floor then turned on his knee and faced the room again. "I want to know what's going on!" he demanded. "That Roberts guy said that you could tell me about this whole C-5 business after that psycho ceremony they had." He frowned when the colonel continued to ignore him. The man shifted in his seat and turned a page in his book. This made Ed even angrier and he yelled, "You _bastard_! You can't just ignore me, you know!"

Suddenly there was a knock at the door and Mustang lifted his head and looked toward the door before standing and crossing the room. Ed crawled to the side of the cage so that he could see the door. When the colonel opened it, Ed saw a tall woman with short brown hair wearing a white, knee-length skirt, with a white short-sleeved top tucked into the top of the skirt.

The woman was holding a tray of... Ed's stomach growled and he licked his lips involuntarily. He didn't know what kind of food was on that tray, but it smelled great.

"I've been asked to bring this to you," the woman said in a docile tone.

Mustang nodded and stepped out of her way, then pointed to the bed. "Just put it there."

The woman bowed slightly and murmured, "As you wish, sir."

Ed followed the woman with his eyes and he noticed that she was barefoot and had a band of black around the right sleeve of her arm. The same spot Mustang had his band of red... He watched her set the tray down and as she turned, he pulled himself up by holding onto the bar with his left hand and standing on his right leg, and shouted, "Hey! Hey, you!"

So what if he was bare as a baby! If she could help him, then it would be worth the embarrassment. She ignored him however, and began walking toward the door. He followed her as best as he could in the cage. "Hey, can you help me? This guy is crazy!" As she neared Mustang, the woman did a small curtsey, then left the room.

Shutting the door, Mustang glanced at him, then walked beside the cage; though not close enough that Ed could reach out and touch him. "You're being very bad today."

"Fuck you," Ed snarled, tightening his grip on the bar.

The colonel walked to the side of the cage where Ed couldn't see, and a thought flitted though his mind at how odd it was that there were bars all around the cage yet outside the bars, on the sides, there were sheets of metal and on the back of the cage there was the wall behind the bars. He could only see out of the front of the cage, and it was maddening.

Mustang walked back into his line of sight, and Ed saw that he was carrying a small folded table. Unfolding it, the colonel sat on the bed and set it in front of him, then set the tray on the table. Again, Ed's stomach growled as he saw steam rising from the large pile of scrambled eggs, the fat pieces of bacon, the plump sausages, and the thick pieces of crusty toast. A small bowl of green melon pieces lay off to one side, and a tall frosted glass of some sort of red juice sat on the other side. Two small shakers for the salt and pepper sat in front of the plate.

"This looks really good," Mustang murmured as he too looked at the food.

"I don't think that's going to be enough for both of us..." Ed said quietly. He suddenly had a feeling that the breakfast wasn't meant for him, but for Mustang only.

Mustang didn't grace Ed's comment with a reply; instead, he picked up the fork and took a bite of the eggs before reaching over for the salt and pepper. He tasted it again, then sprinkled a little more pepper on the eggs before setting the shakers down.

Without looking at Ed, Mustang said, "You don't deserve to know anything. At this point you should already know what's going on, but since you were stupid and didn't take C-2 training like you were urged to, I am going to be merciful to you."

"You're going to give me some of that food?" Ed quipped hungrily.

Again ignoring him, the colonel said, "As I said yesterday, I am your master and you will address me as such."

"Bullshit."

"If you wish to ask me a question you will address me as master. If you want me to acknowledge anything you say, you will address me either as master, or you will use a tone of voice suitable for someone speaking to their master. Doing those is no guarantee that I'll acknowledge you, but you will not be acknowledged at all if you do not follow those guidelines."

Ed scowled. "Fuck you, _master_."

Mustang glanced at him, raised an eyebrow, then leaned over and pressed his hands to the floor. Suddenly a shock raced through his body and Ed fell with a groan. He was barely able to hold himself up on his one knee and hand, and finally he let himself fall to his side before getting to a sitting position.

"You will not use my title flippantly. Next time, your punishment will be worse," Mustang warned flatly. Ed glared painfully at the man, but said nothing. "Now that we've covered that, the next thing you need to know is that you won't get anything to eat until you ask for it," Mustang said and took a bite of one of the pieces of bacon.

"Fine. Give me some food. Now," Ed demanded, but he was ignored. He was about to start ranting at the man when everything that had been said sunk in. To be acknowledged, he would need to call Mustang 'master'. To get food, he needed to ask for it... That meant if he wanted food he'd have to call the colonel...

With a grunt, Ed turned and pressed his back against the bars. "I'll starve first," he muttered.

"I'm sure you're wondering why your arm and leg are gone," the colonel said.

"Well, no duh!" Ed muttered.

"As I said yesterday, you are property. You own nothing. I own you. Since you forced my hand yesterday, I decided to take yours. I decided to take your leg simply because I could. If you're really good, I might let you have it back soon, but that's really up to you."

"Go to hell," Ed said, staring dully at the back of his cage.

The sound of a fork scraping against a plate sounded in his ears and Ed's stomach reminded him that it still hadn't been fed. Ed sighed. He was sure Mustang wouldn't really let him go very long without food. That would just be cruel. If he could hold out for a day or two, he was sure he'd get something.

"There's also the matter of your name," the colonel said after a moment. "Edward and Ed are both the names of someone who is free. You are not free. You are property. Perhaps I could say you're my pet, though I really don't think you've earned such a high status." Mustang paused, then said thoughtfully, "I think I'll call you Eddie."

Ed's eyes widened in hot fury. Turning to face the man, he yelled, "You fucking call me that damn little-kid name and I swear I'll beat the fucking shit out of you, you asshole, son-of-a-bitch, mother-fucking bastard!"

Taking a drink of the red juice, Mustang nodded and said, unaffected by Ed's rant, "Yes, I think Eddie will fit you well; a good name for a pet. I'm sure you'll be a good pet once you're trained."

"_Pet?!_ You fucker! I'm not being trained to be a damn _pet_, I'm supposed to be trained as a C-5!" he raged, the anger hot within him. When the colonel ignored him and began eating his fruit, Ed turned around and again put his back to the man. If Mustang thought that he would answer to such name, the bastard had another _think_ coming.

"I will take you out to do your 'business' three times a day. If you need out more than that, you'll need to ask me," Mustang said, and Ed scowled. He couldn't be serious!

"I'm sure if I pissed out of these bars I could hit your bed," Ed growled, though whether that was true or not, he didn't know. The bed wasn't exactly close to the cage... Well, if he couldn't hit it, he'd at least be making a point.

For a few minutes neither said anything, then Mustang said, "You must memorize this litany." Then quoted:

_When my master is happy, I am happy.  
__When my master is sad, I am sad.  
__Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally  
__My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal.  
__My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him._  
_Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do.  
__If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is.  
__My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him._

"I will expect you to recite it before each meal, before I let you out to relieve yourself, and before you are allowed to sleep," Mustang said, then silently began eating again. Ed thought about what the colonel said in horror. _If my master tells me to kill? _The other lines were unbelievable, and he almost wanted to laugh at them, but that one... That one line stood out above all others. Would he be expected to kill someone to get his C-5 rank?

Ed turned around and grabbed a hold of one of the bars, his anger over the new name forgotten in his worry. "I changed my mind! I don't want to do this! Just let me out and let's go back to Central, okay? You never said I'd have to kill someone! It's not worth it to me if I have to take someone else's life!" he pleaded, but the colonel only continued eating, studiously ignoring him.

"You bastard! Let me out!" He tried to shake the bars but it was no use. After a few minutes he let go and pressed his back against the bars once more. Sitting despondently on the floor, Ed tried to be angry, but he couldn't. For the first time since he'd started this, he was truly worried. He and Al had always said that they only wanted to get things right as long as it didn't come at the expense of other people's lives...

* * *

_Why does Ed have to be so stubborn? I suppose I don't blame him. If I hadn't known what was going on when they did that part of the C-3 training..._

_As I sit here, writing this entry, Ed is just silently sitting in his cage. For now, that's fine. I feel too sick to try handling anything right now anyway. _

_The breakfast they served me was incredible, but I had to force it down. Even now, I feel as if I could throw up, but I needed to eat it to make a point. I know Ed is hungry. If he didn't whine about it, his stomach is loud enough that it would alert me. I felt so evil, sitting there in front of him, eating my breakfast while he had nothing. I wonder how many days Ed will wait before he finally caves in and asks for something to eat._

_Probably not as long as it will be before he begs for sleep... _

_I really don't look forward to that._

_I wanted to give into Ed when he begged me to let him return to Central on the chance that he might have to kill someone to obtain his certification. It's amazing that the threat of horrible unknown things being done to him seemed not to faze him at all, but to think that he'd have to harm someone else... _

_I suppose that really shows how kind Ed truly is._

_I hope someday he'll forgive me for what I'm going to do to him.__  
_

* * *

Ed stared dully at the large bowl filled with water to the side of his cage. It looked like a dog dish. He'd been staring at it for the last hour since his 'conversation' with Mustang. Apparently the 'no food' rule didn't apply to water...but, a _dog dish_?

Frowning, Ed looked back over his shoulder to where Mustang was writing in some book. When he was sure the man wasn't watching him, the teen clumsily crawled over to the bowl, sat down by it and tried to pick it up off the floor.

Frustration and embarrassment filled him when he found that the metal dish was welded to the metal floor of the cage. If he was thirsty, he'd have to drink out of it like... A sound caught his attention and he looked up to see the colonel walking toward him. Ed scowled and turned his back to the man.

"Alright, Eddie," Mustang said softly. "If you need to take care of business, now is the time."

Ed turned and growled furiously at the colonel. 'Eddie' was _not_ an acceptable thing to call him. "Don't call me that, you bastard!" Ed yelled as the man looked down at him with folded arms.

Ignoring the his protests, Mustang said, "You need to recite the litany before I'll let you out. Since we're just starting, I'll say it and you repeat after me." The colonel said the first line, but Ed simply glared at him. If that fuck head thought he'd ever say those words, he was mistaken.

After waiting almost two minutes for Ed to repeat the words, Mustang shook his head and said, "I see. I guess you don't need to use the restroom," before walking back to his chair to scribble in that book of his... Ed watched him go with a wary gaze. Actually... he did need to go... He'd hold it until he couldn't anymore, then he'd show the bastard what he thought of his rules.

Looking down at the dish of water, Ed scowled at it. He wasn't going to drink out of that bowl like an animal either.

* * *

_I don't like that look in his eyes. He's up to something... I have a bad feeling that I know what he's about and I don't think he's going to like the consequences...__  
_Ed silently tapped his fingers on the floor and stared hard at Mustang. He was reading that little book again. If he wasn't writing in the other book, he was reading in the little one. Again, curiosity grabbed a hold of him and he wondered why the man wasn't doing anything else. Surely he must have something to do...

* * *

Well, that really didn't matter right now. What mattered was that for the first time that day, Mustang didn't seem to be watching him. Of course if he got up, that would probably change, but maybe if he just got on one knee? No, he'd stand.

Watching the colonel for any sign that he was watching, Ed pulled himself up on his knee, then pulled himself to a standing position by holding onto the bar. Mustang still seemed to be paying more attention to his little book than to him so he leaned against the bars to steady himself, then reached down, grabbed himself and said, "Yo! Asshole! This is what I think of your _rules_!"

At that, he started relieving himself. The stream of urine didn't reach to the bed, but it did make a nice little puddle at the foot of it. Suddenly Mustang pressed his hands to the ground and a moment later a shock surged through his body, not just from where his foot was connected to the metal ground, and where his shoulder connected to the metal bar, but also from his penis; the current making its way from the liquid on the metal floor to him.

It was odd how one moment he seemed to be standing and the next he was laying huddled on the floor. He couldn't even remember it happening. His hand was still holding onto his sex and he suddenly realized the intense pain he was feeling in his groin was partially from him squeezing.

He released his grip and let his hand fall to the floor where he felt warm liquid against his skin. He felt a slight sense of humiliation when he realized that his body must have released the rest of the urine as he was laying there. If he had been in less pain, he was sure he'd feel much more embarrassed than what he did, but he wasn't.

His skin stung where it had been connected to the metal floor and bars. The tip of his penis burned furiously, and the head throbbed. His balls had retracted, feeling tight as if his body were trying to protect that vital area. Waves of pain emanated from his groin and he thought that if he'd been kicked there with steel-toe boots, it would be a much more pleasant experience.

He couldn't seem to get any breath and his vision was white and fuzzy. Though the pain was starting to fade from the other parts of his body, it still remained, hot and stabbing, in his groin.

For a long time, it felt like an eternity but for all Ed knew it could have been five minutes, he laid there on the floor of his cage as his vision and breath slowly came to him. As the pain lessoned in his lower region he realized his whole body was shivering. The pungent smell of urine hit his nose as he was finally able to breathe in a non-gasping manner.

His eyes lifted and he saw Mustang standing outside the cage looking in at him with a blank expression on his face before blackness started to creep in on him and Ed embraced it. He didn't want to be awake, he wanted to sleep. He wanted to escape the pain and the reality of his situation. At that moment, a small shock when through Ed's body, enough to startle his mind and keep him from passing out.

"I don't think so," the colonel said in an even voice. "Before you go to sleep, you need to recite the litany.

"The... litany...?" Ed croaked, then he remembered. His body begged him to do it. Just recite it, just say what Mustang wanted him to say so that he could escape this new hell, but his pride wouldn't let him. Instead he croaked, "Fuck you." He closed his eyes and opened them when another small shock passed through him.

* * *

_After Ed's defiance, I had to call in some of the workers on this floor to come clean up his mess. I wanted to have them clean Ed as well, but I didn't. I couldn't. Fortunately, he didn't get too much in his cage. He's not going to smell very good for a while though. Not the greatest for me, but I'll deal with it. I only hope his stubbornness doesn't lead to him getting sores on his body._

_I actually felt real sympathy pains for him. I can't imagine what that must have felt like, but I'm sure it was extremely painful. I swear I feel a small twinge of pain in my own cock just thinking about it. _

_At the moment I'm watching Ed closely. He seems to want sleep, but I need to keep him awake. He'll need to be watched constantly as his body gets weaker from lack of food as well. He hasn't been drinking out of his water dish so he might get a little dehydrated too, but I think his survival instincts will take over and he'll drink some of the water soon. Maybe not today, but probably tomorrow. _

_My only hope is that after that demonstration, he'll recite the stupid litany so that he can at least take care of his business and I can give him a bath. I don't want another repeat of what just happened. Really I don't know if I can handle it. _

_Soon they're going to come bring me my lunch, but I really have no appetite for it. I can't let Ed know that though, so I'll have to force myself to eat as much of it as I can..._

_Ed... If only you knew how much I wanted to just take you out of that cage, give you your clothes, and get on a train back to Central with you. But I can't. You asked for this, and I agreed to it. Now we both have to do our part..._


	7. Deprivation

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Seven**

**Deprivation**

Ed stared dully up at the ceiling of the cage with tired eyes. The hunger pains from that morning had turned into a dull, raw ache. That, combined with the rank smell of urine, made him want to retch. He didn't, but he wanted to. His body felt disgusting and his skin itched where the piss had dried. He wanted a bath, but not enough to ask for it.

He turned his head slightly and moved his eyes so that he could see Mustang. The man was watching him intently; like a hawk watching its prey, or a cat watching a trapped mouse. Ed sighed and turned his attention back to the ceiling. He was tired and wanted to sleep, but every time he closed his eyes a shock would race through him.

Ed suddenly smirked at the thought that he didn't feel quite as embarrassed about being naked as he had. For some reason it didn't really seem to matter as much. He'd take food, sleep, or a bath over clothes right now. It was almost funny how fast he'd thrown away his modesty...

Funny, in a horribly sick way...

When a knock sounded on the door, Mustang sighed heavily and pushed himself out of the chair. He stopped in front of the cage and gave Ed a level gaze before continuing to the door. Ed waited for whoever was there to speak, since he couldn't see the door. Whoever it was didn't speak, but they didn't need to. The smells of roast beef met his nose and his stomach gurgled in response.

A man in white with a band of black around his right sleeve, walked into Ed's line of sight. He was carrying a tray of food, and Ed's stomach rumbled loudly in response. Mustang walked past him, retrieved the small folding table from earlier, and set it up at the end of the bed, before motioning for the man to place the tray down. The man did so, bowed respectfully, and left without a word.

Ed swallowed hard as he began to salivate. He wanted to take his eyes away from the tray but he couldn't. The food there held him captive as surely as the cage did. He could almost feel it in his mouth... He licked his lips and watched as the colonel took a seat on the edge of the bed in front of the tray with a look that seemed almost... unhappy. Ed shook his head. He didn't see how that could be possible since Mustang had all that delicious looking food in front of him.

The colonel glanced at him with an unreadable expression, then picked up a fork and took a bite of the juicy meat. He chewed slowly, never seeming to take his eyes from Ed, then took a small sip of his drink. Ed involuntarily whimpered when Mustang took a second bite. It was just too much!! Normally he was starving at each meal, and he hadn't eaten since yesterday! His stomach growled loudly at not being fed and Ed tore his eyes away from the food to the ceiling again. It was only _food_... he tried to tell himself. He could do this. Mustang wouldn't really let him go without for that long, would he?

"This is really good..." he heard Mustang say, though for some reason it didn't seem that the colonel really was enjoying the food. "I don't think I've ever had such a tender roast before. The seasoning is just right too. It's really plump and juicy. Too bad you don't want any."

Ed growled and turned his head back to glare at the man. "Fuck you!" he spat angrily. It made him feel a little better, though not by much. The man simply ignored him and took a deep drink from the tall glass on the tray. Ed stared hard at it. Not only was he hungry, but he was beginning to get thirsty as well...

Worse, he had to pee again. It wasn't urgent, but... Anger filled him and he stared hard at the cage ceiling again. He'd hold it. No way was he going to ask to use the toilet, and no way was he going to recite that fucking litany!

Only... part of him was starting to wonder why not. Why not just say it so that he could make this easier on himself? Ed glanced at Mustang, who was buttering a roll. It's not like he'd have to actually _mean_ what he was saying, right? All he had to do was say it... Ed shook his head, angry that he was even considering it. No way was he going to throw his pride away just to make this easier... He felt a suffocating feeling in his chest. This training was nothing like what he'd thought it would be.

"Well, that was definitely an amazing meal," he heard Mustang say after a while. Ed tried his best to ignore the man, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the colonel stand up and walk to the cage. Scowling, Ed turned onto his side so that his back was to the man.

"This is the time that you would normally eat as well, though since you don't want to, I'm going to say the litany out loud for you to hear. That way you won't forget it when you're ready to say it."

_When my master is happy, I am happy._

_When my master is sad, I am sad._

Ed mentally tried to tune out the words, but he found that he couldn't.

_Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally._

Ed shook his head. He'd _never_ serve Mustang.

_My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal. _

He rolled his eyes. Yeah, he was really being taken care of well...

_My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him._

Ed wanted to ignore the words, but he couldn't. He only had one hand, so it wasn't as if he could cover his ears. Unfortunately, Ed had a great memory, and he found himself almost saying the words in his head with the man since he'd already heard them once before.

_Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do._

_If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is._

Never. Never, never, never...

_My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him._

When Mustang was done, Ed heard him step away from the cage and then the sound of a door closing met his ears. Turning on his other side, Ed glanced around, but saw no one. It suddenly occurred to him that he hadn't seen Mustang go take a piss all day, so that's probably where he'd gone...

Biting his lip, Ed glanced at the back of his cage. He didn't want to do it, but... if he was going to, then he'd need to before Mustang came back out. Crawling awkwardly to the back of the cage, Ed moved up on one knee, steadied himself by leaning his shoulder against the wall, then grabbed his penis and pointed it toward the corner.

The smell of hot urine hit his nose as he relieved himself, and he grimaced. It was disgusting, but this was better than it getting on him... He felt mortified that he was doing this, but what else could he do? When he was done, Ed scooted back away from the puddle in the corner and stared at it dully. There was no way he'd be able to keep this up... Ed frowned deeply and felt uncertainty fill him. Mustang would have to feed him eventually, right? And he'd have to let him sleep too because Mustang would have to sleep himself... right...?

* * *

_This day has been really shitty. REALLY shitty. The real training hasn't even begun yet and I want to leave. I'm sure Ed does too. I feel like I'm dragging; as if I'm saying the words and performing the actions, but they're not real. I don't really mean them. I just want to leave. I don't want to go through with this. Why did I let Ed talk me into this? I don't want to see him like this... _

_He's been relieving himself at the back of his cage and it smells disgusting. He won't be able to keep that up for long. The cage is well built and it's not going to leak out. Eventually, he'll have to realize that there won't be anywhere else for him to go. Of course, if he doesn't start eating and drinking soon, that will be the least of my worries. _

_It's obvious he's exhausted. I'm sure he'll give in on calling me 'master' and saying the litany soon. The will to survive is too strong in humans, though I'd say more so in him than in most. _

_It's not about him actually meaning what he says right now, of course. When he says it in the beginning he won't mean it at all, and I know that. All I need for him to do is say it; to be wiling to say it. That is the first step. __  
_"Well, Eddie, I'm pretty tired, so I think I'm going to go to sleep."

* * *

Ed looked up irritably and snapped, "Don't call me that!" His words weren't very convincing, though. The word 'sleep' made him feel eager. With having no food, and no water since he was still refusing to drink out of the water bowl, Ed didn't have much energy to do anything but lay there.

Mustang moved toward the cage and held up a crutch. "I'm going to allow you to use this for the night."

"Huh...?" Ed said, not understanding why he'd need a crutch to sleep. The colonel opened the door to the cage, stepped in, and grabbed onto Ed's arm before pulling him out. "What are you doing?" Ed demanded, though truthfully he was glad to be out of the damn thing.

Instead of answering him, Mustang dragged him to the middle of the floor where a small, circular, rubber mat lay on the metal floor. Pulling him up, the colonel had him stand there on his one foot, then slipped the crutch under his armpit. Ed looked down. The circle was small. There was barely enough room for someone to stand on it with two feet, but that was about it.

"You'll stand there for tonight," Mustang said casually while walking to his bed. Sitting down, the man pushed a small button on the wall and said, "Stay on that circle, Eddie. If you fall off, you'll have to stand back up on your own. If you touch the floor, you'll feel some... unpleasant... sensations. The longer you stay on the floor, the more intense those sensations will be."

Reaching over, Mustang pushed another button, and the room darkened. "Good night, Eddie. I hope you'll want to sleep tomorrow. I'm sure that standing all night, especially on one leg, can be tiring." He paused, then said, "Remember why you're here, and remember that this is your choice. You've chosen this. You've also chosen not to eat, or use the toilet, or sleep. Everything to this point has been your choice. Think about that while you stand there."

Ed glared at the man as he lay down. If he wasn't getting any sleep, then neither was Mustang! "If you think I'm going to be quiet so you can sleep, you're wrong! If I'm not sleeping, _you're_ not sleeping!" Ed snarled angrily. "I can stay up longer than you, old man! You'll see! I'll..."

Ed continued on like that for a long while, but nothing he said caused the colonel to acknowledge him. Finally, he kept his peace. Yelling at the top of his lungs took more out of him than he'd thought it would, especially with him already so exhausted. His mouth was now very dry and his throat burned. He swallowed hard and glanced longingly over to the water bowl which was now unavailable to him.

He shifted his weight to the crutch, trying to relieve some of the pressure from his leg. It wasn't bad now, but if he really was going to stand there for eight or so hours, then he needed to find a way to keep himself from getting leg cramps. Ed could walk around for a long time with no problems, but just standing there?

He glanced down at his bare leg in the darkness. He just had the one for now. The crutch helped a bit, but not very much. It's most useful purpose was keeping him stable. He supposed he should be grateful... Mustang could have had him stand there without the crutch...

Ed shook his head. Grateful?! Fuck no! _What the hell am I thinking?_ Ed thought to himself. He wasn't grateful! He was angry! Ed grasped a hold of his anger and held tightly to it for a while, keeping his thoughts focused on how much of a bastard Mustang was. Slowly, though, the negativity began to drain from him and he suddenly realized that though the anger had kept him going for a short while, he now felt more exhausted than ever.

The muscles in his leg were starting to burn now, and Ed leaned even more on the crutch. His head sagged against his chest and he almost felt like he could cry. Here he was, naked as the day he was born, hungry, thirsty, tired, dirty, and without the benefit of either his automail or alchemy. Ed felt a sudden lump in his throat and a burning in his eyes.

Helpless.

He was helpless, perhaps more than he'd ever been in his life. With the crutch steadied under his armpit, Ed carefully lifted his hand and tugged gently at the metal collar around his throat. His fingers traveled over the smooth surface and touched the arrays on each side. He couldn't figure them out, not without seeing them. It was so frustrating. What were they for? Why had there been blood when Mustang put it on him? Was the collar to blame for his not being able to use alchemy? How could he take it off? It seemed to be continuous; the metal so smooth without as much as a line to indicate where it would open.

Tiredly, Ed let his hand fall. How long had he been standing there? Two hours? Three? He didn't know. Could have been more, could have been less. It felt like forever. Again, he let his head drop wearily to his chest and this time he felt his body start falling asleep. He'd doze off for a second, then wake up suddenly when he realized what he was doing.

Ed shook his head. He had to stay awake! Unfortunately, lack of sleep and sustenance lured his unwilling mind into unconsciousness, and the next thing he knew he was on the floor. His eyes snapped open at the mild throbbing sensations that were coursing through his body. He groaned and slowly began to sit up. As he did so, the throbbing grew worse and the aching in his muscles became a slight cramp.

Gritting his teeth, Ed crawled over to the rubber pad. The skin that was touching the metal floor was beginning to sting and burn, and a buzzing sound was beginning in his head. His muscles were starting to contract and retract painfully. When he reached the pad, Ed knelt unsteadily on it with his knee and lifted his lower leg up so that it wasn't touching the ground. Instantly, the pain was gone, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief. His hand, now resting on the crutch, slowly slid the crutch to an upright position.

Ed stared up at it, trying to figure out how he was going to get back to a standing position without touching the floor again. It didn't take him long to figure out that there was no way. Not with only one foot and one arm. Involuntarily, Ed glanced to the bed where Mustang slept. He could try to wake the colonel and ask for help... His features darkened stubbornly. But that would require him to be deferential—to call the man 'master'.

Ed rested his head against the crutch and blinked rapidly when tears came unbidden to his eyes. This wasn't training... it was torture. How could Mustang treat him like this? How could he be so cruel?

'_Remember, this is your choice... Everything to this point has been your choice.'_ Mustang's words rang loudly in Ed's head.

His choice.

Gritting his teeth, Ed held tightly to the crutch, pushed back on his heel and cried out as pain gripped the sole of his foot. Quickly, Ed hopped to the rubber pad and the pain faded. Breathing heavily, Ed let out a small sob.

It _had_ been his choice, all of it. He'd chosen not to take C-2 training. He'd chosen to come here, and he'd chosen Mustang... Suddenly, he realized that, yes, Mustang would have fed him, and let him use the toilet, and even let him sleep, if he'd only _asked_. If he'd only said that dumb litany and asked...

He sniffled and clumsily wiped at his eyes, feeling stupid for being so emotional, but not able to help it. What would it hurt if he just said what Mustang wanted him to? Well... it would hurt his pride, but other than that... Not like he had to mean what he said, right?

Something else that Mustang had said hit him and he suddenly felt sick to his stomach. The colonel had told him to remember why he was here... He was here to become a C-5. He was here so that he could have access to important documents; important research that could possibly be what he needed to get Al's body back. What good was he doing Al by being stubborn? After all, that's why he didn't take C-2 training, right? So that he could hurry and become a C-5.

He felt like such a loser... Calling the colonel 'master' and saying that litany shouldn't matter as long as he was doing what he needed to so that he'd be able to get Al's body back.

It shouldn't, but it did.

Not only was it humiliating for him to call _anyone_ 'master', but that litany... it was just... _horrible._ Besides that, Ed already felt so helpless. It was as if he still had a tiny bit of control by _not_ doing what Mustang wanted him to do. Yet resisting was making him miserable, and it wasn't helping Al any either.

Tears filled his eyes again and he silently let them come. He was just so tired and so hungry that he couldn't even think straight. Ed glanced at the bed, at Mustang's sleeping form in the darkness, and tried not to cry too loudly. He didn't want to give in, yet he knew he would. The knowledge loomed darkly over him, making him feel deeply depressed. He would give in eventually because Mustang wouldn't, that much was obvious.

Ed leaned on the crutch. He didn't want to give in... He'd hold out as much as possible, though he didn't know how far away that point was. With silent tears trickling down his cheeks, Ed tried to stay awake...

* * *

_It's morning, but I really didn't get much sleep. I only dozed slightly, waking up at every little noise Ed made. I heard him fall all four times and I heard him cry... Even when he was merely sniffling, I could hear him. The last time he fell, and how he cried both in pain in frustration... it broke my heart. I wanted to turn over and help him, but I couldn't. It would undo everything I've done so far. I can't help him yet. _

_He's still standing there, looking tiredly at me as I write this. He looks rather sullen as well, but I think he's almost ready for what's coming next. I don't know if I am though. I hate doing this. I hate seeing him like this, and knowing that I'm the one responsible. When I think of Ed, I want to imagine the bright, smug, and sometimes frustrating teenager that has been stationed under me these past years, not this tired, fearful, and angry child. _

_I've been holding out on my end, and it's not fair to Ed. I'm holding out because I don't want to change either. Perhaps I'm resisting it as much as Ed is. But I know I have to change. I must, or I will fail._

_So Edward, my young subordinate... I'm going to say goodbye to you for now. I'll try not to forget you, I'll try to bring you back in the end, but for now I have to let go. You are no longer Edward Elric, the Fullmetal Alchemist, Hero of the People. You are Eddie, C-5 in training, property of Roy Mustang._

_As important as it is for you to remember that, it's important for me too. I don't want to, but I must. I'll do it for you, because it's what you want, even though you don't know it. I've helped you as much as I can to regain what you and your brother have lost; I won't fail you now. Please don't hate me for what I'm doing, and what I will do._

_I'm going to put this journal down now, Ed, and with it, I'm going to let go of you. Goodbye, Edward. I promise I won't forget you._


	8. Personal Identity

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Eight**

**Personal Identity**

Ed stared dully at Mustang as the man wrote in that damn book of his. The colonel seemed almost depressed as he wrote, but Ed really didn't care. He was so tired that he feared he'd fall over again, and that fear was enough to keep him standing... for now at least.

With a final sigh, Mustang shut the book and looked up at Ed with an almost unreadable expression. Ed frowned. Something was going on in that man's head, and he wasn't sure he was going to like it... But, what more could Mustang do to him? What more could he do to make him miserable? Ed didn't know. Mustang turned and placed the book in one of the nightstand drawers, then looked up at Ed.

"Good morning, Eddie," Mustang murmured softly.

Ed wanted to yell at the man, tell him that his name wasn't 'Eddie', but he just didn't have the energy. Instead, he simply narrowed his eyes, hoping his distaste for the name would be clear. If Mustang saw the glare, he didn't react to it. Mustang moved over to the edge of the bed and slipped his feet into a pair of rubber slip-on shoes before pushing one of the buttons on the wall and dragging a chair to where Ed was standing.

"Sit," Mustang said in a soft command. Ed glanced from the chair to Mustang, then back to the chair before looking nervously at the floor. He did want to sit, very much so, but the memories of falling on the floor during the night were fresh in his mind. "You can step on the floor," the man said simply as if he could hear Ed's thoughts.

Gritting his teeth together, Ed slowly crossed the small distance to the chair and slowly sat down. He wasn't _obeying_ Mustang; he simply wanted to sit... It felt so wonderful to finally get off his foot, but the relief brought a different ache that made him groan softly. His leg was stiff and his muscles were cramped from standing all that time. Ed leaned the crutch against his knee and rubbed his leg slightly, then rested his arm over his groin in a feeble attempt to be modest, though really he couldn't care less at this point.

Ed's eyes followed Mustang as he walked around the chair and stood in front of Ed with his arms folded. Ed studied him back with a frown. The black pajama pants had a stripe of red going up the side of each leg, and the long-sleeved, button-up pajama shirt had a stripe of red around each of the sleeve cuffs.

"Who are you?" Mustang asked in quiet seriousness.

Ed's eyebrows knit together in confusion at the question. When Mustang said nothing else, Ed swallowed, trying to wet his dry throat, and said hoarsely, "Edward Elric."

The colonel shook his head. "You are not Edward Elric. You are Eddie, and you are my property." Ed's head hurt and he really didn't feel like arguing about this right now, but he couldn't let that go. He was Edward Elric, no matter what dumb pet name he was given.

"I'm Edward Elric!" he exclaimed, though not nearly with the force he had hoped would come out.

Mustang raised a dark eyebrow and murmured, "Is that so?" He stared at Ed for a moment before walking behind him and out of his line of sight. Ed heard a drawer opening, then after a moment he felt his messy hair being lifted. Suddenly he felt his hair being grabbed tightly and something cut through it. He turned around to see Mustang holding a pair of scissors and his hair in his hands.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Ed cried, his exhaustion momentarily forgotten. That was _his_ hair! He hadn't said Mustang could cut it!!

Without answering him, Mustang grabbed his head and roughly turned it before hacking through the rest the hair. The pressure on his head lessened for a moment and Ed turned his head in time to see the large chunk of hair laid on the bed. Mustang grabbed his shoulders and turned him around. "Don't move," the colonel commanded before Ed heard and felt more of his hair being chopped off.

Ed watched in horror as small chunks of blond hair fell to the floor. "Stop it!" he cried again and felt frustrated tears fill his eyes. He wanted to resist—to fight—but he couldn't. He was simply too exhausted from lack of sleep and food, not to mention he was so thirsty that he could hardly stand it. He could slap at Mustang with his one good hand—try to punch him even—but that wouldn't do much good, and Ed had no desire to deal with any more pain right now.

Besides... what did it matter anyway, he wondered dully. The damage was already done. Two hot tears trickled silently down his cheeks from his eyes. He'd said he wasn't going to cut it until he got Al's body back... His lower lip trembled, and his nose and eyes burned as he tried to hold back any more tears. Mustang had no right! No right at all!

Though he tried hard to fight it, a sob burst from him and more tears spilled from his eyes. He just couldn't handle this right now. He just needed sleep! As hungry and thirsty as he was, he'd take sleep over either right now. His body hurt and he was simply exhausted, and now this...

The chopping stopped and he heard the scissors being put away before a small buzzing sound met his ears. Mustang grabbed his head and held him still while shaving his head, then let him go when he was done. Ed heard the razor being put away, then watched as Mustang stepped in front of him once again.

"Tell me," Mustang murmured. "Who are you?"

"Edward Elric..." Ed said, sniffling. He felt so very pathetic right now.

Without a word, the colonel stepped forward and slipped his arm under Ed's before dragging him to the side of the cage where a door was located. Mustang pulled him in and turned on the light. Ed glanced around the bathroom, but before he had a chance to take it all in, the colonel turned him around to face him.

"Tell me," Mustang said. "Who is Edward Elric? What does he look like? Can you see him in your mind?"

Ed's forehead wrinkled in confusion, but he instantly saw an image of himself in his mind. He was standing there defiantly in his black clothes and long, red coat. His long hair tied back in a braid and a silver chain leading to his pocket where his state alchemist identification was stuffed.

Without warning, Mustang turned Ed around to face a full-length mirror. Ed stared at himself in stunned silence. Small pieces of hair clung to his naked body, and poked out from between his skin and the collar where they'd fallen. His automail ports brought attention to the fact that he was missing both his arm and leg. Dark circles hung low beneath tired, red eyes. And the most shocking thing was his shaved head. He'd never had his head shaved before. When he was younger, his hair had been short, but never like this...

"Do you see Edward Elric in there?" he heard Mustang ask.

Ed searched the pathetic figure in the mirror desperately, but... no, he wasn't there. The person he'd always seen when he'd looked into the mirror was gone... He blinked rapidly as his vision became blurry.

"Who are you?" Mustang asked again. Ed opened his mouth to answer, but found he didn't have the words.

_I am... Edward Elric..._ he thought desperately.

Mustang brought his head close to Ed's and whispered, "Does that _look_ like Edward Elric to you?"

Ed shook his head and a sob broke from him. No... no, it didn't...

"It doesn't look like it to me either," Mustang affirmed. "You know why?" Ed shook his head again, too upset to even think about what was going on. "Because, you are _not_ Edward Elric. You are _Eddie_, and I am your master. I own you, Eddie. Your only purpose in life is to serve me, and to serve me faithfully without question.

Ed reached out his hand and touched the mirror before falling down to the floor. He was Edward... he was... he...

He lay on the floor, curled up into a ball, and started to cry. It was all just too much... He couldn't handle any more right now! All he wanted to do was sleep! He just wanted to forget it all! A hand gripped his arm hard and pulled him up to stare into the mirror again.

"Please..." Ed moaned, trying to look away from the mirror, but Mustang moved his head back.

"Who are you?" he asked once again with unfailing patience. Ed mumbled something between sobs. "Who are you?" Mustang repeated. "Say it!"

"Ed... I'm Ed..." he cried desperately. He didn't want to say it. It wasn't true! But... if he said it, would he get to sleep? He clung to that thought and suddenly sleep became more important than his pride. He couldn't resist anymore; he just couldn't...

"Who are you?" Mustang asked, his tone low and serious.

"Eddie..." he whimpered and felt shame wash through him at even saying the words, but he just couldn't resist any longer. "I'm Eddie..."

"Good boy..." Mustang said with a sigh, then rubbed Ed's back gently. "Good boy."

"Please... Can I sleep now?" Ed begged pitifully. The crying had only served to worsen his tiredness and it was all he could do to keep awake. He was so exhausted and spent that he thought he would have thrown-up if he'd had anything in his stomach.

"Who am I?" Mustang asked softly.

Ed stared up at him with tired eyes. What he really wanted to say was 'you are Roy Mustang, bastard extraordinaire', but he knew that reply wasn't what the man was looking for. Instead of responding to the question directly, Ed answered it with the same question.

"Please... Can I sleep now..." He paused, then whispered in quiet humiliation, "Master..."

Mustang reached out and pulled him up before sitting him down on the toilet. "Yes, you can," he said kindly. "But first you must have a shower. You smell disgusting."

Shower? Ed moaned. While he wanted to be clean very badly, it was quite low on his priority list at the moment. He looked up tiredly, watching as Mustang reached over and turned the water on for the shower. The shower was a large, square area with tiles lining both the walls of the shower and the floor.

Ed glanced from the shower back to Mustang, ready to repeat his request when he saw that the man was getting undressed. A faint feeling of alarm struck him. He wasn't going to shower with Mustang, was he?

After pulling off the night shirt, the colonel's hands paused at his pants. He glanced at Ed briefly before blowing the air out of his lungs and quickly pulling the pants off. When he was naked, Mustang pulled Ed up to a standing position and led him to the shower.

The hot spray against his skin felt so nice that he almost fell asleep right there. Ed closed his eyes and felt a hand on his back pushing him gently forward. He let that guide him and opened his eyes suddenly when he realized he was now leaning against Mustang's chest.

"It's alright, Eddie," Mustang said quietly, then Ed felt soapy hands rubbing against his skin. "I'm going to take care of you. I will _always_ take care of you as long as you are loyal to me."

For some reason, Ed found comfort in those words. Mustang would take care of him... He wasn't so bad... These sleepy thoughts swam around in his mind as he stood resting his head against Mustang. The feeling of hands slowly washing his body lulled him into a trance-like state and he felt his knee buckle under him.

Hands held tightly to his body and he felt himself slowly lowered. Ed blearily opened his eyes and noticed that they were both sitting under the spray, noticed that he was sitting in Mustang's lap. He thought vaguely that he should be embarrassed and alarmed by this, but he couldn't work up the emotions. Instead, he snuggled into the warmth and closed his eyes again.

The washing resumed along with more reassurances that he would be taken care of as long as he was loyal to his master. He sighed sleepily and let the words swirl around in his head. Loyal... Loyal to Mustang, to his master... Everything would be fine... He was so good and loyal...

The last thing Ed remembered were two strong arms encircling him, holding him tight. He felt so warm and protected in those arms. Letting himself relax into the embrace, Ed finally fell into a deep sleep.

* * *

_Despite the fact that I've just had a shower, I feel extremely dirty. I feel evil beyond belief... _

_Today, I cut Ed's... no... Eddie. He is Eddie... I cut Eddie's hair today. I really didn't want to. His hair was so, well, _him_. But that's why it was necessary. He needed to see that his identity is no longer in his control. Who he sees in that mirror is no longer who he believed himself to be. Though I knew this, it was still horrible to watch. _

_He finally acknowledged me as 'master' and he was able to say that he was Eddie and not Edward, but this is only the beginning. I don't expect him to be as easy when he's had sleep and food. I foresee more stubbornness on his part, though I hope he won't be too difficult. I don't think I can go through much more of this._

_I gave him a shower; he needed it, given the disgusting stench from the urine. Because Eddie was so fatigued, I decided to shower with him (though I think this is something I'll implement on a regular basis in the training). I don't think he would have had the energy to hold himself up and wash himself. I have to admit that I was a little embarrassed to get undressed in front of him, though I think I would have felt more so if he'd actually been coherent. _

_It was rather... disconcerting... showering with him. The closest I've come to showering with another male was in a locker room, but even then it wasn't as if I was under the same _showerhead_ with them. Even more unsettling was that he fell asleep in my arms. Having a naked man pressed against me was... I don't know. I definitely felt odd about it. I suppose I'll have to get used to this given the later part of the training. I don't really even want to think about that yet. This would be so much easier for me if Eddie was a woman... But he's not, and I agreed to this, knowing full well what some of this entailed. I just hope that when the time comes I'll be able to..._

_Enough of those thoughts. That is all for later and not for now. For now, my first concern is that he says what he needs to. He needs sleep. He needs to eat and drink. Everyone does, but at his age... at his age it's especially important. His body is still growing and maturing. It uses energy so fast. I think that if he had been even five years older it could have taken him a few more days or even a week to get to the point that he is now._

_I just hope he will stop fighting me. He could die if it went too far. There are no systems in place to keep trainees alive if they become too weak or if an accident happens. He doesn't seem to understand that there's a reason why only criminal State Alchemists take on the rank of C-5. It's no big loss to society if they die, but it is a gain to the military if they can be retrained into loyal slaves. I don't know if the military realizes that there is a major flaw in this. The master needs to be loyal to the government if the C-5 is to be as well._

_In any case, those are thoughts for another time. _

_What matters now is that Eddie was able to give in once. He may have been exhausted, and hungry, but he was able to give in once. It won't be as hard for him the next time even if he isn't as tired._

_At this moment, he's sleeping on my bed. He's lying with his back next to my chest and I have my arm over him so that I can write in this journal. I've also requested cleaners to scrub out the cage. They're here now, yet they don't even seem to think that the way Eddie and I are laying together is abnormal. _

_It _is_ abnormal, yet it isn't... _

_I want to protect him. I'm not sure if this is because I have always tried to protect him, or because he's so young and vulnerable. It could be because he's mine, though I'm sure those feelings aren't supposed to come until later. Normally the trainer and trainee haven't already known each other before the training begins. Edwa... Eddie... and I are truly a special case. _

_At this point the trainer isn't supposed to have any feelings toward their trainee at all. That probably helps them get through this initial stage since they don't really care about their trainee, and they actually might feel that the trainee deserves the treatment they're being given because of their criminal activity. Eddie doesn't deserve this, doesn't deserve it at all... He never should have asked for this. Anyway, I suppose that if I hadn't known Eddie before, then this wouldn't nearly be so hard on me. As it is, this is tearing me apart. I'm supposed to be protecting this boy, not hurting him._

_No._

_No, now I'm making the mistake of thinking of Eddie as Edward again. I can't. I can't think of the past. I can only think of now. Eddie is my property, my pet, and though I _will_ protect him, it won't be because of the past. It will be because he is mine. I must train Eddie to be loyal to me with all his heart and soul so that Edward will reach his goals—so that we can both reach our goals... For both of our sakes I must train him correctly, no matter how much it hurts either of us in the process.__  
_Ed moaned as he felt his mind claw its way into consciousness. Dreams... He'd had such strange dreams... He'd had dreams of Mustang holding him in the shower, of washing his body, and murmuring what a good boy he thought he was and how loyal Ed was to him. He'd had dreams of lying on a soft, comfortable bed curled next to someone as they wrote in a book. Then there were dreams of being carried and laid down on a hard metal floor...

* * *

Ed shifted, then opened his eyes. Or maybe they weren't dreams... He was lying in the cage again, but the room was dark. Weakly, Ed sat up and blinked. How long had he been sleeping? Was it all a dream then? He lifted his hand and gently touched his head, then let it drop heavily back to the floor.

No dream... It had been no dream.

Tears of anger stabbed at Ed's eyes. Mustang had no right to cut his hair. No right at all! Ed gritted his teeth and scrubbed angrily at his eyes. He wanted to keep telling himself that, but he knew that he was wrong. He was thinking more clearly now than he had been before, and he knew that Mustang _did_ have the right. He had the right because Ed had given him that right... Ed searched his memory, trying to drudge up the words from when he'd been collared.

"_Fullmetal Alchemist, Major Edward Elric, I, Flame Alchemist, Colonel Roy Mustang put this collar around your neck as a sign that you have accepted the responsibility of a State Alchemist certified at the fifth level, and with that, the burden of training."_

"_This collar is not only a symbol of your training, but it is also a representation of the new position you will hold; not only in the military, but also in the relationship we will form from this day on."_

The burden of training... His position... He hadn't agreed explicitly that Mustang could do whatever he wanted, but it was in there. It had been implied, but there were no implications in the litany... The litany was to the point.

_When my master is happy, I am happy.  
__When my master is sad, I am sad.  
__Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally  
__My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal.  
__My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him._  
_Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do.  
__If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is.  
__My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him._

Ed sniffled, feeling angry with himself. He'd been so stupid... He'd blindly agreed to this. He was the one who had given Mustang the right. The colonel was only doing what he was supposed to do. How could he be angry at him for that? Perhaps he shouldn't, but he did feel angry. It was lessened by his mental understanding of the situation, but it felt better to blame someone other than himself for what was happening.

Ed yawned and stretched. He couldn't remember ever feeling so exhausted in his life... Smacking his dry lips together, Ed glanced over in the direction he knew the water bowl was before pulling himself to it. He felt so thirsty... His mouth was dry and he craved water in a way that he'd only known when he'd traveled through the desert. Even then, it hadn't been nearly this bad.

When he got to the bowl, Ed looked around again. He didn't want Mustang to see what he was about to do. After satisfying himself that the colonel was asleep, or at the very least not watching him, Ed leaned forward, pressed his lips against the still surface, and sipped awkwardly from the bowl. He could use his hand to scoop up the water, but this would be faster. It was degrading that he should have to drink from a dish meant for animals, but right now he needed water. His stomach growled loudly as if to remind him that he also needed food.

With a sigh, Ed flopped onto his back, then sniffed the air. He frowned and glanced toward the back of the cage. It was clean. The cage must have been cleaned while he was asleep. Ed touched his body noting that it had also been washed.

No dream.

It had been no dream.

He felt blood rush to his cheeks in embarrassment at the thought that he'd not only showered with Mustang, but he'd fallen asleep against him—fallen asleep in his lap. Well, he _had_ been pretty tired... Unfortunately, that thought didn't seem to lessen the awkwardness of it all.

He frowned. Then the other 'dream' must not have been a dream either. Ed glanced over to the dark shape of the bed. Had he slept there as well? If so, it must have been Mustang who he'd... His frown deepened. He hated to use the word 'cuddle', but... Ed groaned and slapped a hand against his face in humiliation. He did not _cuddle_ with Mustang!

Ed shook his head trying to clear his thoughts. Well, whatever... he didn't cuddle, he'd just been asleep... As much as he tried to convince himself, the faint memories of being hugged, and—he scowled—and, and... _petted_... wouldn't leave him alone. Ed growled in frustration, half because it had happened, and half because he vaguely remembered sleepily leaning into those shows of affection.

He covered his eyes with his arm in frustration. He wasn't an animal. He was a person, a human being. Ed clenched his fist as his stomach growled again and tried to put the matter out of his mind. Okay, so perhaps he had lain next to Mustang and had let the man pet him like an animal, but he'd been mostly asleep. He wasn't responsible for what he did when he was asleep.

Ed turned over onto his side and closed his eyes, determined to get more sleep before Mustang woke. Instantly, visions of himself in the mirror came to mind and he felt horror and revulsion well up within him. It wasn't just who he'd seen in the mirror, but that he'd actually called himself by that horrid name and that he'd called Mustang... _that word_.

_But I was _tired Ed reasoned with himself in frustration. It wasn't as if he'd been thinking straight at the time. Squeezing his eyes shut, Ed tried to ignore the pain in his stomach and tried to sleep. He may have given in before, but that was only because he'd been tired... he surely wasn't going to give in again. At least, that was what he told himself. As he lay awake, his stomach felt like an empty hole, and Ed wondered if he'd be able to keep his resolve firm when the morning meal was served...


	9. Just Pretend

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Nine**

**Just Pretend**

The knocking on the door immediately brought Ed into awareness. He quickly sat up and looked around. Mustang was motioning a young man into the room, who, as Ed had expected, was dressed in loose white pants and shirt with a band of black around the sleeve.

Mustang sat on the end of the bed and allowed the man to bring out the tray-table and set the tray full of food onto it. With a bow, the man quietly let himself out of the room and then they were alone again.

Ed's mouth was already watering at the mere thought of the food, but as the aroma hit his senses, he had to keep swallowing so that he didn't start drooling. His stomach growled loudly, and his body shook slightly with the sheer _need_ to eat something. He felt more than a little weak, and let his body slump as he wearily watched Mustang look over his breakfast.

_What's more important?_ Ed desperately thought to himself. _My pride or getting through this?_ He didn't understand what all this torture was about. If it was a part of the training, then where did it fit in? Was it to make him more humble and teachable? If so, it was a shitty way of going about it.

He tapped his fingers against the floor in thought. He _really_ wanted some of that food, but he also despised the thought of calling Mustang 'master', or saying the litany, or any of the other insane things that were being required of him.

A small amount of drool leaked from the corner of his mouth, and Ed quickly wiped it away. He could always just tell Mustang what he wanted to hear... _I don't have to mean it. I don't have to mean it. I don't have to mean it,_ Ed told himself over and over again. He was going to give in. He knew it and he hated himself for it, but what else could he do? Mustang obviously wasn't going to give in to him...

Ed watched longingly as Mustang slowly ate a large, succulent, red strawberry. The way the man's teeth sunk slowly into the moist and juicy fruit... the way a small amount of light pink liquid dribbled down from his mouth so that he had to wipe it away... the way Mustang made that 'mmm' sound... Ed's mouth salivated even more and suddenly he couldn't take it.

Clearing his throat, he said quietly, "I would like some breakfast..." He watched as Mustang paused in his eating, but didn't look up at him. As politely as he could, Ed added, "Please?"

Still not looking at him, Mustang ate another berry, this one a fat, juicy blackberry, and Ed began to panic. He'd been polite! Why wasn't he being acknowledged?! Was Mustang just going to eat all of the food before recognizing that he'd spoken? The colonel wasn't like that? Was he? A small whine escaped him.

Then it dawned on him and Ed wanted to scream in dismay. Of course... Mustang wanted to be called 'master'. Fury and frustration clawed at him. _Fuck him!_ Ed seethed angrily. He didn't _want_ to do that... yet the prospect of going without another meal made him quickly push the anger aside. He couldn't keep his pride and live, and dying wasn't an option.

"Master...?" It came out in more of a whimper than anything else, and Ed wanted to die from humiliation, but when Mustang looked up at him, Ed thought he would cry from happiness. "Can I please have some breakfast?" Ed asked quietly.

_Give me your foooooood_, Ed thought hungrily and gave Mustang a pleading look.

He wondered if he was going to get some smartass remark from the man; after all, Mustang liked to be a smart-ass, right? But of course, he hadn't been like that since they'd left Central... Mustang simply nodded and said, "You need to say the litany first."

_Litany!?_ _Mother fucker..._ Ed cursed mentally. Maybe Mustang liked torturing him like this... Maybe... but... Ed's breathing quickened into a small, quick pant as he tried to work things out in his mind. No... Mustang didn't like treating him like this, did he? Memories of the past few days flashed through his mind, but only briefly.

Food.

He needed food and it was more important than theories or speculations; and right now, it was more important than his pride. He had to think for a few moments to remember all of the words to the litany, but when he did, Ed recited it slowly, careful not to say anything wrong.

"When my master is happy, I am happy. When my master is sad, I am sad. Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally. My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal. My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him. Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do. If my master tells me to... kill..." he stumbled over the word, almost choking it out. "I will kill." _No, I won't, _Ed thought. _I'll never do it..._ "No matter who it is. My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him." Ed hated the litany; hated saying it. Each time he did it was as if the words echoed in his mind and he couldn't stop thinking about them.

When he was finished, Mustang nodded in approval, got up, and walked over to the cage. Crouching, Mustang said kindly, "Would you like to come out of your cage for breakfast?"

"I don't care. Just feed me!" Ed snapped harshly. When he saw the look of disapproval on Mustang's face, he cleared his throat and said in a more respectful tone, "Whichever you think would be best." _And quickest, _he thought.

Mustang stared at him for several moments before saying, "I don't think you've earned the right to eat out of your cage."

_Fine, just feed me!_ Ed thought desperately, watching as Mustang got up and moved out of sight for a moment. Ed glanced at the tray in confusion. Wasn't he going to get some of that? What was going on? He could hear what sounded like a package being opened, then Mustang reappeared and slid something in between the bars of the cage before walking back to sit on the bed.

Ed stared in disbelief at the small container that was sitting on the floor in front of him. Picking it up, Ed eyed it more closely with a deep frown. It was the prepackaged military rations that were sent out with the soldiers when they went to war. Not exactly appetizing, but supposedly they were fortified with all the nutrients a person needed... Basically they kept you alive...

This particular 'meal' contained chunks of meat and potatoes—or at least he _guessed_ and_ hoped_ they were potatoes—in some sort of dark brown sauce that looked as if it had gelled up. Ed set the small container down on the floor and poked his finger in the cold, gel-like sauce before bringing it to his mouth.

His eyes instantly squeezed shut at the taste and texture. It wasn't exactly _horrible_—it was almost too salty to tell it had flavor—but then, he was starving, so it probably tasted better than what it really was... Still, at that one taste his stomach growled more loudly than before. His hand shook slightly, both in eager anticipation and in anger.

Looking up, Ed snapped, "Why are you feeding me this shit? How come I don't get some of that?!" He knew this was probably the wrong thing to do, but it wasn't fair! "And how come I don't get a fork or spoon or _something_?! How the fuck am I supposed to eat this?"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Ed clutched the container tightly to his chest and quickly scooted to the back of the cage. The food might look like someone had taken a dump in the container, but it was food and he wasn't going to let Mustang take it away from him.

He eyed Mustang—who hadn't responded at all to his rant—then tipped the container over his mouth like a glass, but the sauce was much too thick and barely moved. Growling in frustration, Ed resigned himself that he was going to have to reach in with his fingers and pull the chunks out.

Making a face of disgust, Ed grabbed a piece of cold meat from the goo that passed for sauce and it made a small sucking sound as he pulled it out. Popping the meat chunk in his mouth, Ed chewed it quickly, trying not to notice the horrible texture of both the gelled sauce and the rubbery meat.

Ed glanced again to Mustang who was now taking a bite of a thick piece of crusty toast. He felt angry, but the thought that he had chosen this kept coming to his mind. No one had forced him into this. If anything, _he_ had pushed _Mustang_ into this...

He ate another piece, a potato this time, as his body urged him on. Maybe he would have gotten something better if he hadn't acted out... Maybe. Maybe not. He'd had the choice to eat in the cage or out. He hadn't had the choice of what he got to eat...

_It's just not fair_... Ed thought, then immediately wondered if that wasn't a false statement. It wasn't as if _he_ had acted very nice since all of this had started, but... but...

But what?

Okay, so yeah, he'd had it rough over the past couple days, but would he have gotten the same treatment if he'd acted better or been more cooperative? Fuzzy memories of sleeping on Mustang's bed crept into his mind. It was after he'd finally given in a little. The colonel had been so kind and caring... Whenever Ed had acted how he was supposed to, Mustang had treated him really well, and never once had the man really seemed to enjoy having to punish him...

Ed suddenly realized there was no more food in the container... He scraped the sides and licked his finger before giving a small, involuntary whimper. That had probably been the most disgusting thing he'd ever eaten, yet he found himself wishing for just a little more...

Sucking lightly on his finger, Ed gave Mustang a sideways glance. During this whole time, he had only responded to how Ed had acted toward him, but he didn't want to think of it that way. He wanted Mustang to be the bad guy! He wanted someone to blame that wasn't himself...

In a sudden fit of frustration and rage, Ed picked up the container and threw it toward Mustang. Unfortunately—or fortunately, since who knew what would have happened if he'd actually hit Mustang with it—the container was made of a flimsy and light material, so it didn't even make it as far as the bars before it clattered to the floor of the cage.

Why the hell hadn't he listened?! Why hadn't he just taken C-2 training to find out what this was all about?! Why was he always so quick and stubborn?! Was this even worth it? Why couldn't he just hate Mustang?! Why wouldn't his thoughts leave him alone and stop reminding him that he'd chosen this and that he really didn't have anyone else to blame but himself?!

Staying near the back of the cage, Ed lay down on his side so that his back was facing Mustang and huddled in on himself, not caring anymore that his ass was fully visible. It didn't matter anymore, not when the man had already seen him several times over. Modesty was a luxury that he didn't have anymore, so why pretend that he did?

Ed clenched his jaw tightly and made a fist. He didn't want to give in! Even though he _knew_ it was for the best—because this was what he'd come for—it was still so hard... He wasn't anyone's slave, or pet, or whatever. He was a human being! He had value! He didn't deserve this!

His eyes stung and he squeezed them shut. He would not cry. He would figure this out... But there wasn't anyway to 'figure it out' besides giving in and going along with letting Mustang be his 'master' and him being 'Eddie'. Escape wasn't an option. The compound was surrounded by an electric fence, and there was a good chance that he'd be caught before he got that far anyway... That was, _if_ he could even get out of the damn cage he was stuck in now.

He could continue to fight, but what good would come out of it? Ed felt a lump form in his throat and swallowed hard. It was all so _frustrating_! But... but... what if he just went along with it all? What if he just pretended? He could do that, right? It's not like he'd _really_ be giving in... It would seem like it to Mustang—the same way he hadn't meant it when he'd called the man 'master' so that he could get some food—but inside it wouldn't be true.

Ed breathed in deeply and let himself relax. Yeah... he could do that. He could pretend. He'd trick Mustang, that's what he'd do. He'd fool everyone; and, after he got out of this place then he'd just laugh in their faces because he'd be C-5 and he'd be able to get the information he needed and he'd let them all know that they'd been swindled...

He mentally grabbed onto the idea like a drowning man holding to a piece of drift wood. The daydream of his triumph swirled in his mind; and after a while, the darkness consumed him and he was oblivious of his situation, at least for a short time.

* * *

_He ate. It's about time, though I can't say that being fed war rations is really eating. I remember those—had to be close to starving before I could stomach them. The rations are filled with so much salt to preserve the contents, and some vitamins are added for an amount of nutrition, but actually choking down the stuff..._

_Well, whatever. He ate, and that's what matters, though the look on his face when he saw what he was being fed nearly broke my heart. I don't think I've ever seen such a pitiful expression on Ed's face before. _

_Strike that. This is Eddie, not Ed. The past shouldn't matter..._

_BUT IT DOES, DAMMIT! _

_I don't know if I can do this. I can't stand seeing him look so pathetic! This would be different if it were someone I'd never known before, but it's not! Despite the shaved head, and the naked body, and no automail, it is still Ed. It's still Edward Elric that looks at me through those large golden eyes..._

_But it's not the Edward Elric that came to this facility with me._

_The Edward Elric I see is the little boy he used to be, and he's silently begging to know why I'm doing this to him when he's already seen so much horror in his life. I want to pull him out of that damn cage and tell him that I'm sorry, that I don't want to hurt him, but I CAN'T! _

_All I can do is hope that he'll break sooner rather than later. I can only hope that one day it will be Eddie who looks at me through those eyes and not Edward, because even though it's only been a couple of days it feels as though it's been an eternity. Why can't we be done with this part of the training? It's a nightmare, and every moment weighs on me... _

_To think that we will probably be here for months... I can't imagine it. I know it will get better, but right now it's hell. At least he's asleep right now; it gives me a break. Maybe I'll try to get more sleep too... Yeah, that will be for the best, I think.__  
_Ed yawned and rolled over onto his back before opening his eyes. He frowned. When had he fallen asleep? Sitting up, he stared dully at the side of the cage. It had bars, but just beyond the bars was a wall of metal. It was the same on the other side and on the back. Only the front of the cage was open in a way that he could see through the bars to the room beyond. It was nothing new; that's how it had always been, but for some reason it attracted his interest for the moment.

* * *

He turned and looked out of the front of the cage, trying to ignore how closed in he was. His eyes fell on the bed and he saw that Mustang was lying there, most likely asleep. While normally he'd be happy to have some time where he wasn't being watched, right now it presented a bit of a problem for him, as he really needed to use the bathroom, and Mustang was the only one who could let him out.

The thought of pissing in the back of the cage again disgusted him. Why should he be so stubborn if he was going to pretend to go along with this whole thing? Sliding to the front of the cage, Ed grabbed onto one of the bars, then pulled himself up to stand on his leg. He had a much better view standing than he did sitting, and while Mustang was lying down, Ed didn't think he was actually asleep.

Should he simply call out to him, Ed wondered. Or maybe it would be better if he waited... only, Ed wasn't sure that he'd be able to wait too much longer... Tapping his fingers silently on the bar, Ed thought about it for a moment, then decided to risk it. Better that, than the alternative.

Clearing his throat, Ed said, "Um..." He hoped that would be enough to get Mustang's attention, but the man didn't move. Frowning, Ed thought about it for a moment, then resigned himself to what he was about to say.

"Master..." He cringed inside at having to say it, but it did the trick. Sitting up, Mustang looked tiredly at him, but said nothing. He didn't have to. Ed knew he had his attention. In the most humble and docile tone he could come up with, Ed said, "I'm sorry to wake you..." _Cause I have to see your ugly-ass face._ "But, um..." _I have to take a piss._ "I need to use the restroom..." _Now let me out of here!_

Ed gave the colonel a look that he hoped looked pleading, and Mustang gave a small nod before saying, "The litany?"

_Fuck the litany!_ Ed raged inwardly, but recited it anyway and waited expectantly. Mustang nodded again, and moved off the bed to the cage. Opening it, he grabbed Ed's wrist with one hand and placed his other at the bottom of his neck, right below the collar.

Looking deeply into his eyes, Mustang whispered, "Don't try anything you know you shouldn't." Ed swallowed involuntarily as he felt a tingle of electricity move down his spine, starting from where Mustang's hand held his neck. It didn't hurt, but it was slightly... uncomfortable...

He shook his head quickly and said, "I won't." He wouldn't; at least, not now. Maybe he'd try something after he lulled Mustang into thinking that he was playing along... maybe he wouldn't... He needed to become a C-5...

"Good boy," Mustang murmured, seeming pleased, and gently gave his wrist a squeeze.

_Fuck you..._ Ed thought as he was led to the bathroom. When he was standing before the toilet, Ed glanced at Mustang, who was still holding onto his neck, though he'd let go of Ed's wrist. "Do you mind?" Ed growled deep in his throat, when he saw Mustang had no intention of looking away.

Mustang raised an eyebrow and again Ed felt a small tingle of electricity move through him from where the man had his hand on him. "You haven't earned privacy, Eddie," Mustang said quietly. "I'm quickly becoming displeased with your attitude, and if I am unhappy..." He trailed of, but Ed's mind filled in the rest.

_Then I am unhappy..._

Ed lowered his head and stared down at himself both in frustration and embarrassment. "I'm sorry..." he murmured, not meaning it in the slightest, but having no desire to get into an argument before he got what he wanted.

It was humiliating, having to relieve himself while Mustang watched. It wasn't the same as merely being naked around him. This seemed so much more... well... _personal_. He'd never had someone touching him and looking at him while he did this, and it actually took him almost a full minute before he could relax enough to go.

The whole time he cursed Mustang, the military, fate, and even his own father. It wasn't until he was back in the cage that he realized if Mustang had let go of him, then he might have fallen since he had been on one leg and his body was still pretty weak.

With that recognition, Ed wanted to bang his head against the floor in frustration. He felt so confused, and yet he knew that there was nothing to be confused about. Mustang was caring for him even though he didn't deserve it. The man could have let him fall, could have even shocked him for his remark, but he hadn't...

Mustang was trying to help him... The whole reason Mustang was there was to help him, and all Ed had done was give him a shit load of trouble... It was then that the full impact of his earlier thoughts crashed down on him.

Mustang was not the bad guy. _He_ was the one who had chosen to come. The way he was being treated was in response to his own actions and if he hadn't been such an asshole, then Mustang would have been nicer to him.

_If my master is happy, I am happy..._

But his master wasn't happy... And nether was he.

It occurred to him that perhaps he'd gotten off lucky by having Mustang as a master. Even though the colonel could be an annoying ass in the office, he'd done a lot for him... Mustang cared... He cared what happened to him. Probably no other person would have been as kind as Mustang was being...

The thoughts flew though his mind so fast that it was almost dizzying, then suddenly one thought came to the forefront of his mind, leaving him cold and fearful. What would happen if Mustang decided that he didn't want to do this anymore? Ed couldn't leave after this started, but could Mustang? What if they assigned him to someone else? The thought terrified him. The last few days had been hell, but how much worse would it be with someone else? Someone who didn't know him, someone who didn't care...

No... He wasn't going to let that happen.

Ed felt a firm sense of resolve. Even if he didn't mean it, he was going to play his part. Mustang was doing what he had to for his part, but he wasn't. He'd agree to this whole calling Mustang 'master' and going by 'Eddie' for now.

After all, he didn't have to mean it, Ed reiterated to himself, and he didn't want to chance being passed off to someone else... Mustang cared about him. He must with all he was doing for him... This was just for a little while. He could pretend for a little while. What harm would there be in just pretending?


	10. Reluctance

—

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Ten**

****

Reluctance

—  
"_Eventually, though, many applications of the defense mechanisms lose their purely defensive function. The mechanisms that began as reflexes can come to change personality."_

- Bienenfeild, D. (2006). Ego Psychology. Psychodynamic Theory for Clinicians. P. 55.

—

_Eddie's first weekly medical inspection is today._

_It's difficult to believe we've been at this facility, in this room, for a week. While Eddie's behavior has mellowed some since we began, he seems to go back and forth in his attitude; like a kitten dipping its paw in the water to find out if it's really a threat or not. One moment, he's almost as docile and pliable as he needs to be to move on from this disgusting and harsh phase of the training, but then he backtracks so quickly that it's hard to believe there had been any change at all._

_He mutters to himself at times. I can catch bits and pieces here and there, and it sounds as if he's trying to reason out why he should give in. I suppose I don't blame him. Human beings are prideful and self-absorbed creatures. We live for ourselves initially, and only when our needs are fully met do we begin to care about the well being of others. _

_Edward, no... Eddie... Eddie was, and still is, a very strong willed person. He is selfless to a point—perhaps more selfless than many others—but I believe this is a learned trait. From what I've learned over the years, before the fateful transmutation, he was not so selfless; children rarely are. However, in his selfishness, he ignored the warnings of others, ignored the fear and apprehension of his brother, and went ahead with what he wanted. Perhaps it's the knowledge of how selfish he was that created the selfless young man I came to know over the years. _

_Perhaps..._

_But this is all speculation; something that I have no way of proving, so it will always remain a theory; though, it suits my purposes as I watch Eddie—as I observe him. It would make sense that his conscious, selfless self is fighting his more base and selfish instinct. _

_He wishes to become a C-5 to help Alphonse, but at the moment finds himself not caring as much about his brother as his situation, and wanting to defend his own pride; his need to remain Edward Elric, his need not to lose himself. Perhaps he is aware that the further he gets into this training, the less he'll think about his brother at all. _

_It is a sad thing, but something that must be. Later, when he achieves his goal—I hesitate to say 'if' he achieves his goal because I believe he will make it—there will be time for Alphonse. I'll make sure Eddie uses his status to help his brother. To not do so would be such a cruel thing; and the one who would suffer most would be Alphonse. But for now Eddie must let go; he must forget. He must focus on the now; must throw away everything to gain it all. _

_Truthfully, I'm tired of all this psychological bullshit. I'm an alchemist. This isn't my prime area of study, nor is it my primary area of interest. Yet, I have to understand. That's why they put us through C-3 training. We had to understand what was happening with our trainee. We had to know how to evaluate their personalities, see the changes, know where to push, and what was too much. _

_I've used a lot of that training in my every day life as I climbed the ranks in the military. I was able to evaluate the situation and use that information to manipulate those around me to get what I wanted. With the concepts I learned, I knew when to push and when to act meek. It's suited me well._

_But this... this doesn't suit me. Breaking people down and rebuilding them... _

_I look at Eddie, lying in his cage, staring silently up, and I wonder what's on his mind. I wonder what he's thinking about. It isn't hard to imagine he's thinking about escape or about how he hates me; or even, perhaps, how he's not going to give into all of this. I wish I knew. I want to move on. I want this part of the training to be over. I want him to give in, but I can't force it. I can only guide him. Too much force and it won't work. Too much force will destroy the fragile bond we have. That bond must grow and strengthen for this to work._

_I'm not even sure how I got on this tangent. I suppose I have far too much time on my hands as I wait for him to think it all through. _

_As I said at the beginning of this entry, today is Eddie's first medical inspection. This means I should probably clean him... He's only had one shower since he's been here, though this is mostly my fault. I am apprehensive about being naked with him again. While this is merely a platonic thing, it seems to foretell of later parts in this training that are... well... I'll deal with that when the time comes._

_But still, it makes me uncomfortable. I've been naked around other men before, but not showering __with__ them. Not touching them and... well, that's just not something I'm accustomed to. Though I have a feeling Eddie isn't either, so perhaps we're even._

_I think this long and rambling entry is attributed to me stalling what must be done. Right now everything is calm and quiet, and I don't want to disrupt that. But it's something I must do, so I guess I'll put this journal aside and play my part.  
_

* * *

Ed caught movement from the corner of his eye and turned his head. Beyond the bars of the cage, Mustang was setting a book—the one he seemed to always be writing in—on one of the nightstands, then turned to start over toward the cage. Ed simply watched, nothing more. In what seemed a long time ago, he might have sat up and tried to cover himself for a shred of dignity, but he'd been naked too long to care if Mustang saw him or not.

"Good morning, Eddie," Mustang said quietly. Ed knew he was waiting for an answer, but he felt too groggy and tired to give one. Despite the fact that he was supposed to be giving Mustang his attention, Ed's mind was still half stuck in his previous thoughts—trying to figure out how he could get out of this mess without giving in; without losing himself. They were idle thoughts, ones Ed didn't exactly expect to become reality; yet ones he hoped could be real. They gave him a good mental escape, if nothing else.

His eyes wandered over Mustang, then settled on his face. The man looked tired, but Ed couldn't imagine how that could be so. It seemed to Ed that Mustang got plenty of sleep and should be well rested. Instead, dark circles hung low under his eyes and deep lines seemed to be chiseled into his skin.

"Good morning, Eddie," Mustang said.

Several sarcastic remarks popped to mind, and while they were all on the tip of his tongue, Ed simply grunted and looked away. He felt so confused. It was hard to know what he wanted anymore; hard to know why he was doing any of this. It was all there—the reasons he'd come here, Alphonse, being a C-5; yet, everything seemed so blurred from being in this room—this cage—of being stripped of his dignity and self-being, and of being deprived of the most basic needs like food and sleep...

There was silence and Ed knew that Mustang was waiting for him to respond, and he felt a mental tug to say something. Finally he looked back and muttered, "Yeah, you too."

Mustang gave a pleased smile, though why he might possibly be pleased with such a lame answer, Ed didn't know. Still, he _was_ pleased, and so Ed felt his mood lift a little. Mustang being pleased meant that Ed might possibly get something... No. No, Ed didn't want to start thinking that way... He wasn't happy because he'd made Mustang pleased, he wasn't! He was just glad he wouldn't have to deal with any shit. That was all. That was the only reason.

"After breakfast, you have a medical inspection, so we're going to shower before the food comes."

_Before _your_ food comes..._ Ed thought jealously, then it hit him what Mustang had said. "We?" he asked dumbly, thinking of the vague memories he had of showering with the man days ago.

"That's right, 'we'. We both could use a shower." While that was true, Ed had no desire to shower with Mustang again. At least last time he'd barely been conscious of what was happening.

'Fuck that. I'm not showering with you,' was on the tip of Ed's tongue. Maybe if he made Mustang mad, then he wouldn't have to shower. But then... Ed studied the man's face. He'd said something about a medical inspection. That might mean that Ed would get a shower no matter what, but that something really unpleasant might happen first...

Clenching his jaw, Ed thought about his options. Misbehave and be forced—with negative consequences—into doing it anyway; or cooperate to make it easier. The first at least allowed him to retain a bit of his pride, to show that he wasn't going to do what Mustang wanted...

Finally, he looked away and muttered, "Fine. Whatever."

He could hear Mustang shift his weight, then, "Alright. Recite the litany and we'll get this day going." His voice held a bit of reluctance in it, but Ed couldn't understand why. Glancing at him through the bars, Ed wondered if Mustang might be just as displeased with the showering arrangements as he was.

It was a new thought, something that he hadn't considered before. How much of this was what Mustang wanted to do, and how much of it was a strict part of the training? That brought to mind the worry of being passed on to a different trainer. Ed swallowed hard, then sat up. Being passed on to someone else was definitely not an attractive option for Ed. Even though he didn't know if it could happen, just the thought of it...

"When my master is happy..." Ed began. After saying the litany six to eight times a day, it was at the forefront of his mind. He could say it by heart without even thinking about what he was saying. Yet, even if he didn't think about it while he was saying the words, he _did_ think on it at other times. It would just pop up in his mind and he'd find himself thinking the words repeatedly until he realized what he was doing and force himself to think of something else.

When he was finished, Mustang nodded and unlocked the door. He stood there and watched as Ed grabbed onto one of the bars and pulled himself up on his one leg. It was moments like these that Ed truly appreciated his automail. But then, wasn't that how it was? You didn't appreciate something until it was gone?

He glanced over at Mustang and took in the considering look on his face, then the man stepped aside and said, "You go first. I'll be right behind you."

Ed blinked. He'd just assumed Mustang was going to help him like he had before. At the realization that he wasn't, Ed felt resentful and, strangely enough, hurt too. He tried to push that feeling away. Why should he feel hurt if the son-of-a-bitch didn't want to help him? But try as he might, the feeling wouldn't go away. He paused, waiting for just a moment more to see if Mustang would change his mind, then began hopping out of the cage and toward the bathroom.

When he was younger, at the time that he'd first been fitted with the automail, Ed had needed to regain a new sense of balance. He'd needed to reset his internal balance system to fit with the uneven weight on his limbs. Now, even with the limbs gone, his body was continuing to overcompensate for a weight that wasn't there. It wasn't something he'd really had to deal with much because even when the automail had been destroyed or had been taken off to get repaired, there was usually someone there to help him around.

It was the little things that were taken for granted, Ed thought bitterly as he struggled to stay standing and ultimately fell to the floor. He felt the jarring pain in his knee when it impacted with the cold, metal surface. He felt the pain up his leg and into his side. Gritting his teeth, Ed kept the instinctive cry of pain inside and tried to figure out how to get up without anything beside him. At least when he'd had to stay standing all night, he'd had the crutch... Now, he had nothing.

Glancing back, Ed looked at Mustang and saw that the man was just standing there; watching him. He instantly wondered why Mustang wasn't helping him. What had he done wrong? Unbidden, his mind rehashed the morning's events. He hadn't done anything wrong... He hadn't been rude... Well, not really... Okay, so he hadn't exactly been pleasant... Was that why Mustang wasn't helping him?

_Stupid thoughts. Stupid Mustang. Stupid, stupid, everything,_ Ed thought angrily as he realized that, without something to hold on to, there was no way he was going to be standing back up. Instead, he half limped/half scooted his body forward, which rubbed his knee and elbow painfully against the metal floor. Unfortunately, going very far took almost as much balance as standing up and he ended up falling over again.

Anger welled up inside of him with the humiliation of it all. The temptation to hit something or rage loudly was strong, but he didn't. Instead, he sat on his butt and scooted backward—kicking himself back with his leg and trying to keep his balance with his hand. It worked well enough for him in the cage; though, with there being more distance to cover now, he felt very stupid and foolish.

He stopped halfway to the bathroom and glared up at Mustang. _You could fucking help me, you know!_ he raged silently. The expressionless look on Mustang's face didn't help either. There was just nothing there. No pleasure at his pain, no sympathy for his situation, no look of superiority, no _nothing_. Mustang could be looking at a _wall_ for all the expression there was!

Making a sound of frustration and anger, Ed began to scoot himself again. The thing was that Ed knew—he _knew_—that if he humbly asked for help, Mustang would help him. He could just avoid all this stupid foolishness by just asking for help... But to do that would almost be the same as admitting defeat, and Ed couldn't get himself to do it.

Turning the corner around the cage, Ed glanced at it. Now that he was closer to it, he'd be able to grab one of the bars and pull himself up... At least, he would have been able to if it wasn't for the damn outer sheets of smooth metal that rested just outside the bars on the sides and back of the cage.

With no offer of help, Ed stubbornly worked his own way into the bathroom. While frustrating and embarrassing, this wasn't painful or too horrible in any way. He could still make a statement. He was still Edward Elric! Or, at least, that's how he felt until he caught a glimpse of himself in the full-length mirror...

He hadn't looked in a mirror since the day Mustang had cut his hair. At the time, he'd been so exhausted and worn that the sight had caused him a profound amount of pain and grief—a sense of loss that had shocked him.

Now, seeing himself in a more coherent state, Ed wasn't sure what to think, and in a way, he felt morbidly fascinated by the image in the mirror and couldn't seem to tear his eyes away. With head shaved, skin paled, cheeks gaunt, muscles slightly gone to waste with disuse, and no automail, Ed felt every bit as pathetic as he looked in the mirror. No wonder Mustang could call him 'Eddie' so easily...

A lump formed in his throat and he glanced away toward the shower. He couldn't bear to look any longer. He didn't want to see that person—Eddie—staring at him. He didn't want to face Mustang's reflection either. Cold tingles rushed over his skin as he tried to return himself to the defiant and self assured frame of mind he'd been in only moments before.

But it didn't work.

A sound caught his attention and he glanced back to see Mustang stripping his clothes off and tossing them into a pile on the floor. The neutral look was still there, but Ed thought he could see slight signs of determination and hesitancy too. Mustang's eyes were fixed on his, but they seemed to twitch in a way that seemed as though he wanted to look away.

Feeling as though he should look away, Ed didn't. He'd been naked in front of Mustang this whole time, so it seemed equivalent that he should stare at Mustang. Maybe it would even make the man nervous or self-conscious. The thought made Ed feel vindicated and he held onto that as if it were some sort of a lifeline.

"In the shower," Mustang said, moving over to the large shower and turning on the water. Unable to stop himself, Ed cast one final glance at his reflection, then worked his way over to the shower. He awkwardly climbed over the one foot tile rise around the shower, then felt the hot spray of the water attack his skin.

Ed glanced at the soap Mustang was holding, then up to the man's face. When Mustang saw that he had Ed's attention, he said, "You'll wash me first, then you can wash yourself."

"What?!" Ed exclaimed automatically, his eyes widening. How the hell was he supposed to wash Mustang when he only had one hand? How was he supposed to wash himself for that matter? It would take forever!

Bending over, Mustang set the bar of soap in Ed's hand and said, "Do a good job and don't miss any spots." The neutral look on Mustang's face seemed to flicker with unease and revulsion, but then it was gone.

Ed looked down at the soap in his hand, and though he supposed his foremost thought should be anger at having to do this, it wasn't. Instead, he felt inadequate and ashamed. How was he supposed to do this with only one hand? And why had Mustang given him that look? Was it because he was a cripple, or was it the thought of showering with a guy?

He glanced up at Mustang, then back at the soap. Okay, well, _he_ felt odd about washing another guy, but Ed thought that he'd probably feel just as odd about washing a woman. Just... washing anyone else! Showering with anyone else! Heat rose to his cheeks at the thought, but when he felt his cock twitch and begin to pulse slightly, Ed thought he'd die of mortification.

_Not this! Not now!_ he thought desperately.

"Eddie..." Mustang said, reminding him of what he was supposed to be doing.

Wanting to die where he sat, Ed pressed his inner thighs together and dropped the soap near his crotch. It was the only place he could think of putting the soap without it sliding away. He rubbed the soap with his hand to get a lather going, but at the same time the bar of soap slid against his groin, making pleasant sensations that his body couldn't ignore.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck..._ Ed cursed inwardly, hoping the soap was at least slightly covering his erection. Reaching over, Ed washed Mustang's feet, then his lower legs and up to his knees. After that, Ed couldn't reach. He made a soft, involuntary whimpering sound as he realized he would need to move the soap and find a way to kneel on his good knee...

Wishing his erection would go away, Ed scooted over to the mid-height nook on the wall where the soap usually sat, and awkwardly got on one knee and leaned the other side of his body against the shower wall.

When Mustang looked down at him, Ed silently begged him to look away. There was no way he would be able to hide the fact that his penis was hard and sticking out, ready for what nature had intended.

Mustang's eyes lowered, then moved back up to Ed's face, but he didn't say anything, simply waited. Ed wanted to offer some sort of excuse, but he couldn't get his mouth to work. His tongue seemed to be stuck to the roof of his mouth, and his throat was dry despite the water dripping down his body and the steamy air.

Finally, he looked away, soaped up his hand, and began his task again; washing Mustang's legs, his stomach, then lower back—all the while with Mustang looking down at him. When he came back to his legs, Ed moved his hand more slowly to Roy's inner thighs and nearly choked when he saw Mustang's cock move and lift a little.

_I can't do this..._ Ed thought desperately as he stared at Mustang's groin. It was too much... too embarrassing... Mechanically, he lowered his eyes and put his hand down to cover his own erection.

For a short time there was only the sound of the shower, then Mustang said quietly, "It's a part of life, Eddie. That's not really something I can control well; the same as you." Mustang knelt down in front of him, then put his fingers under Ed's chin and lifted his head up. Ed tried to glance away, but Mustang whispered, "Look at me..."

Ed didn't want to, and he didn't—at least for a time—but finally he moved his eyes to look into Mustang's. There was compassion and understanding hidden in those dark depths, and for some reason, that struck Ed as... well, perhaps a little uncharacteristic. Mustang had been so distant...

"You've done well with what I've asked you to do so far. I'm very pleased with you." Ed felt surprised pleasure grip his heart at those words. Mustang was _pleased _with him? _Why_? He'd failed... He hadn't been able to do what he was told. Mustang should be punishing him, not saying he was _pleased_ with him...

"I'm not going to force you to wash me anywhere you don't feel comfortable with, alright?" Ed nodded dumbly, trying to comprehend the situation, trying to understand why Mustang would give him the choice. "It's something you _will _have to do eventually, but not today. Do it when you're ready; when you're comfortable enough with me. I won't tell you when you have to. I'll let you decide on your own. That's my command to you."

"What if I'm never ready?" Ed asked, wondering if this would be a loophole that he'd be able to use.

"You will be," Mustang said confidently.

Ed looked down from his groin to Mustang's now fully erect penis and wondered if Mustang was embarrassed too. It didn't seem like he was given his tone of voice and his mannerisms, but Ed was starting to think Mustang hid a lot of things he was feeling. It made him more human, and for some reason Ed felt a little less inclined to argue and fight because of it...

"Okay... when I'm ready..." Ed agreed. He supposed he should feel like he was giving in, but he didn't... It didn't feel like that at all... _What is happening to me...?_ Ed wondered in confusion.

"Good boy," Mustang whispered in that self-assured way he had; running his hand slowly down Ed's back, then up toward his head.

Part of Ed wanted to pull away angrily and demand that Mustang not say things like 'good boy' as if he were some sort of pet; yet, another part of him enjoyed the praise and wanted more of it. He settled on doing nothing—neither reacting negatively nor smiling at the pleasant words. He'd just act neutral and let Mustang think what he wanted. After all, he was supposed to be pretending to go along with this.

Ed pressed his lips together and stared down at the wet tile as Mustang stroked his head softly and tried to convince himself that there was nothing more to it. He was pretending to be good and docile... that's it... just pretend...

* * *

_I am so embarrassed. I'm going to die of mortification. I can see—understand—Ed—Eddie—getting an erection; he's a teenager, it happens as often as breathing for them. But ME! I'm an adult—a grown man! A grown man who hasn't had sex in a while, but that's no excuse... I know it's ridiculous of me to berate myself for something I can't control. The body functions how it functions, but Ed—Eddie—must think I'm some sort of sex fiend!_

_The look on his face when... I can't even write it, but it nearly killed me. There's no way I could possibly make—force—him touch me there, even if it is only to wash me. But now I—did I make a mistake? Should I have given him the chance to choose when to make that next step in that area? Could he tell that I didn't want him to touch me as much as he didn't want to touch me?_

_Maybe I'm not cut out for this. I don't know if I have what it takes to go all the way with this..._

_

* * *

_Ed stared dully out of the cage bars and for once his attention wasn't solely on Mustang's food. Instead, his eyes were on the man himself, watching him thoughtfully. Mustang was writing in that book of his between bites. He'd take a bite, write, take a bite, write. He wrote quickly and his demeanor seemed agitated. Whether that was good or bad, Ed didn't know...

Glancing down at the empty container his food had come in, Ed flicked it away with one finger and watched it bounce across the metal floor. He couldn't get the shower out of his mind. He'd felt—still felt—happy that Mustang said he was pleased with him. He was trying to fight it, trying to tell himself that he was being an idiot for feeling pleased over something so trivial and stupid, but he couldn't help it.

Besides, being happy was better than the confused jumble of emotions he'd been feeling, but he was afraid. It was too easy to give into the good feelings. It was easier than fighting, easier than feeling negative, but he felt like each day he was losing a part of himself. He didn't want to feel good when Mustang praised him, didn't want to think that maybe letting Mustang call him 'Eddie' wasn't all that big of a deal, didn't want to consider not putting up a fight for once and just going along with everything...

Ed looked up when he heard Mustang sigh heavily. The man was lying on his back with the book flopped to one side. He felt torn between feeling glad that something might be troubling him and being a little worried. Mustang normally kept his composure and it was rare, even before they'd come here, that Mustang had lost control of his emotions. Ed mulled over it for a moment, then turned to face directly out of the cage.

"Are you alright?" he asked, hoping it wasn't out of line. He didn't feel like being punished or being humiliated, but he didn't like to see Mustang so out of sorts. Ed grimaced at his thoughts and quickly amended them to 'anyone'. He didn't like to see 'anyone' so out of sorts... had nothing to do with who it was... For a moment, Mustang just laid there, then sat up and stared at him expressionlessly. After a minute, Mustang looked down and grabbed a strawberry off his tray.

_Fine, ignore me then... bastard..._ Ed thought sullenly.

But Mustang didn't ignore him. Instead, he stood and moved over to the cage. Kneeling down, he gave Ed a smile and held the strawberry out through the bars of the cage. "Yes... I'm fine... Thank you for asking..." His voice was soft and he seemed more pleased than Ed had seen him since leaving Central.

Ed glanced hungrily at the strawberry. His mouth salivated heavily and he could _smell_ the fruit... Reaching up with his hand, Ed made a grab for it, but Mustang pulled it away. Ed felt anger flash through him, but calmed just as quickly at Mustang's next words.

"With your mouth, Eddie. Take a bite." Again, Mustang held out the strawberry. Wanting the fruit more than he cared about how this seemed like someone giving their favorite pet a treat, Ed snatched a large bite of the strawberry with his teeth and savored the sweet and tangy taste. It made his stomach ache and his taste buds flair up in desire for another.

"I'm glad you showed concern for me, Eddie," Mustang said, then reached through the bars and briefly ran his hand along Ed's head before pulling back.

"If I show more concern, will I get another strawberry?" Ed couldn't stop himself from asking. He'd meant it as a joke, but he was almost alarmed to hear the sincerity of his question echo in his ears.

"Perhaps," Mustang said with a smile that could mean anything. "We'll see."

* * *

Well, here's chapter ten. Took a lot longer than I'd wanted it to... :( Hopefully I'll get the next chapter up sooner, but can't promise anything.

A note on Roy's last entry. You may notice there are a few sporadic words in there that seemed to be thrown in there in odd places. Since not all places I post will allow for things being crossed out, and I wanted to give it more of a hurried feel, I decided to do it that way.

—

**Please Review.**


	11. Examination

—

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Eleven**

**Examination**

—

Ed idly fingered his collar as he watched Mustang pull on a black, long-sleeved shirt and begin buttoning it up. Red banded the cuffs of the shirt; there was also a red slash along the collar and across the top of the pocket. His eyes lowered as the man began to stuff the shirt into his pants. The pants were also black with a long line of red down the outside of each leg. He'd seen the same markings on some of the pajamas the man had worn. Those pants were stuffed into heavy, black, leather boots. What other clothes Mustang had worn since coming here had also been red and black...

Ed frowned, trying to figure it out in his mind. He'd seen other people wearing either black or white clothes with specific colors on them or even no other colors at all. And then there were the doctors who had worn gray... He tried to think back to the day that he'd gotten the collar, but it was a little blurred in his mind. It seemed like forever ago, and yet it had only been a little over a week.

He watched Mustang disappear behind the sheet of metal on the side of the cage and heard the water running in the bathroom. It was hard to imagine life beyond this cage—beyond this windowless room. It was just so horribly depressing to think about. It was as if a line had been drawn in his life the moment he'd put on the collar. It was difficult to explain, yet easy to instinctively understand.

This life he was living now was not the same as the one he'd left behind. Ed didn't want to think about it that way, but he knew it inside. He was changing... Ed didn't want to admit it, even to himself, but he knew it was true. The fact that he'd taken that strawberry so easily...

Shame filled him as he thought about that—something that had happened only an hour or so ago. He felt angry that he'd given in to his desires to have that strawberry without much of a fight, and yet he knew that if Mustang were to offer him another one in the same manner, he'd probably accept it just as quickly.

He was also afraid. What was happening to him? He'd only been here a little over a week and he could see himself changing. He was aware of it as if he were observing himself from behind a glass barrier. How was Mustang doing this? Ed wanted to fight it, but at the same time he felt himself beginning to give. He could feel his mentality shifting slightly each day and he didn't know how to fight it.

The water in the bathroom was shut off and a moment later Mustang appeared in his line of sight. He'd combed his hair and shaved—Mustang had done neither since they'd been stuck in this room. They'd had 'visitors', but they'd only been people who had brought food and picked up the empty trays. They hadn't had any visitors important enough for Mustang to bother cleaning up for.

Mustang looked into the cage at him and Ed studied him back. Despite the fact that the man didn't seem to grow much facial hair, the shave had done wonders for him; the same with the combing his hair had received. But his eyes were slightly red and bloodshot, and deep lines were chiseled under them where dark circles hung unceremoniously—making him look as if he hadn't slept at all in the past week. He looked as if he were about to say something, then seemed to change his mind. Turning away, Mustang grabbed his writing book and settled into a chair.

* * *

_And now we wait. It isn't as if we ever really do much in here, but it's different now that we're waiting for someone. Or, at least, it's different to me._

_Normally they do a physical inspection of the trainees (and the trainers) the day they're collared, but Ed was a special case. I had to fill out some special documents giving as much of Ed's medical information as I knew and they'd agreed to wait a week for the initial examination. It was probably best that they waited. Ed probably would have fought and made a lot of problems, but now that he's had time to become accustomed (at least a little bit) to life here, I think that Eddie might take this a lot better._

_This is not to say that I expect everything to go smoothly. No, I'm not quite that optimistic. But he's at least had the chance to become used to his situation and I hope we won't have any major problems._

_I must say that I was really very pleased with Eddie's progress today at breakfast. I'm sure that his show of concern came partially from his general concern for everyone, but I'm thrilled that he took the step to act on his concern as he did. I'm happy that I was able to offer him a well deserved reward rather than deal out punishment._

_The look on Eddie's face when he ate that strawberry was very satisfying, though in a way it's almost disturbing at how quickly he seems to be conforming to his situation. I'm not sure what to make of it, truthfully. _

_I was told that in many ways the training would be easier, and probably quicker, because he is so young, but I really hadn't believed it. Ed has always been so mature for someone so young, and yet I suppose his age really does make a difference. At least, it seems to have._

_This is both encouraging and terrifying. I want to move on in the training, but there are some parts of the training that I don't know if I can handle... I thought that I would be ready when the time came, but now I have my doubts. _

_I'm also not sure what to make of Eddie. I see the changes... the subtle ones and the ones that are almost glaring. I almost miss the 'old' him—Ed. He hasn't changed __a lot__, but—_

* * *

Ed sat up when he heard the knock, then looked over to where Mustang's hand was poised over the book—his head up and looking at the door. Then he closed the book and set it on the nightstand before getting up and moving to the door. Ed scooted as far as he could to the other side of the cage in an effort to see the door, though by the time he got there, their guest was already walking into the room. It was an older man with close cut, black hair and glasses. The man was wearing dark-gray leather boots with gray pants and a short-sleeved, gray shirt with slashes of red.

"I'm Doctor Knox," the man said in a subdued tone as he introduced himself to Mustang.

"Roy Mustang," came the response.

Knox nodded, but when Mustang offered his hand, the doctor simply stared at it until Mustang dropped it and wiped his palm on his pants in a self-conscious way. The doctor moved more into Ed's line of sight. He saw that the doctor was carrying a large briefcase right before it was lifted onto the bed. The doctor opened the briefcase, pulled out a paper, and studied it for a moment before glancing at Ed, then to Mustang.

"I have the documents you submitted, but I'll be completing a new and more thorough set today." He paused, then said, "I've heard about your trainee, though I can't say that I truly believe anyone would submit themselves to C-5 training willingly."

"It's true," Mustang said, and Ed thought he could hear a stiff note of defensiveness in the man's voice.

"If you say so," Knox said doubtfully, then turned to the cage. "If you could bring him out, we'll begin." Ed glanced at Mustang, who had his lips pressed together in a way that looked as if he were a little irritated, but then he turned and opened the cage door.

"Come on out, Eddie," Mustang coaxed lightly. Ed glanced to the doctor, who looked at them, shook his head, then began pulling instruments out of his briefcase—one of which was a syringe with a very large-looking needle. Suddenly, Ed wasn't sure he wanted to be examined by this man, and he scooted back toward the back of the cage with a shake of his head.

"Eddie..." Mustang said, sounding displeased now. "I told you to come out."

"No fucking way," Ed finally said, looking back at Mustang. There was no way he was going to go out there and willing _let_ someone stick a needle in him.

He was wearing Mustang's patience and he knew it by the angry look he was being given, but... Ed glanced out of the cage again, but his attention came back to Mustang quickly when he felt a sharp, shocking pain flash through his body. He involuntarily cried out and the next thing he knew, Ed felt himself being laid down on something soft.

Voices filtered through the fog of pain and he listened to them without being able to really grab a hold of them.

"...not the way you address a new trainee."

"You don't know him. He's already made a lot of progress."

"I've been working here since before you were born. I've seen all types. The trainers that fail act just like yo—"

"If you want to give me advice, Doctor Knox, then become an alchemist and pass C-3 training. Until then let me deal with _my_ charge_ my_ way."

"Wha..." Ed groaned as he fought to regain consciousness. He blinked and struggled to sit up, but his muscles were tense and every movement caused him a dull aching pain. Glancing up, Ed could see Mustang's face glaring down at him. He'd been punished for disobeying... No warning at all. Ed swallowed. If he would have just come out when he'd been told to...

No.

No fucking way!

Ed clenched his teeth together and looked away. He was _not_ going to start thinking like that! There was nothing wrong with him not wanting to be poked and prodded by this man, and if Mustang didn't like it then that was his problem. Ed swallowed hard as he tried to explain this to himself, but that didn't stop him from feeling uneasy and guilty at having disobeyed. That, in and of itself, was frustrating and he felt angry that Mustang was starting to have so much power over how he thought.

He wanted to lash out, but at that moment a hand grabbed his chin and forced him to look to his right. Instinct prodded him to pull his head away, but his body felt too sluggish and weak from the high jolt of electricity it had just received.

Ed watched as the doctor studied him closely, his small, beady eyes intent and prodding through the glasses. Defiantly, Ed narrowed his eyes and glared back. It wasn't much, but Ed wasn't going to let this old man think he could manhandle him any way he wanted and have him be okay with it.

Knox's eyebrows raised slightly at the small gesture, then his gaze moved to a point beyond Ed—to Mustang, Ed assumed—then back to him. Letting go of Ed's face, the doctor grabbed something from the bed—Ed didn't bother looking to see what it was—and tried to stick part of it in Ed's ear, but he jerked away.

With teeth clenched, the doctor grabbed roughly onto his jaw, trying to force him to hold still. Ed couldn't pull away, but he growled deep in his throat as he silently promised pain and suffering to this asshole once he was strong enough. Then suddenly another hand entered his line of sight, grabbing onto to Knox's wrist.

"I don't approve of you manhandling my trainee," Mustang said warningly from behind him.

"It's too early for you to be this soft on him!" the doctor snapped, but Ed noticed that the man's grip lessened by a lot.

Ed blinked. Mustang was too _soft_ on him? He thought about having to endure times with no food and no sleep, and having to piss at the back of the damned cage, and... How was all of that being _soft_?!

"_I_ will decide what is best for him," Mustang answered evenly. "If I think this is what he needs at this time, then this is what he's going to get. Not every trainee is the same, and my Eddie has already progressed faster than is normal." Ed could hear a touch of pride in Mustang's voice and he was embarrassed to realize that he felt pleased at that.

"Well, I can't very well examine him if he keeps squirming..." Knox growled.

Ed felt Mustang's breath on his ear, then, "Eddie...?" He didn't respond, simply waited. "I want you to hold still for Doctor Knox. If you don't obey me, then I will be very upset." He paused, then said, "Do you understand?"

There was a long moment of silence as Ed considered Mustang's words. He didn't particularly _want_ to obey, but at the same time he felt compelled to do so. It was as if he'd be letting Mustang down. A stupid thought, but there it was. There was also the threat of Mustang's displeasure... Memories of being shocked bad enough to loose consciousness, or of having to stand all night, or going without food, or even the use of proper facilities assaulted him. He didn't want to go through any of that again... Yet, in the end, what decided it for Ed was Doctor Knox. He was such an _ass_, and Ed was willing to obey Mustang just to show the fucker up.

When Ed nodded, the doctor leaned in and began by examining his ears. He then moved to Ed's eyes, nose, mouth, and throat. After looking at each, Knox would write something down, murmuring out loud as he went, then continue on.

All seemed to be going well until the doctor reached the automail port on Ed's right side. There was quite a bit of probing that Ed couldn't really feel because it was on the metal surface, and then in one blinding second pain shot from the port and through his whole body. He screamed and jerked away, then reached over and held his flesh hand against the port as if that would protect it from any further invasion.

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Ed raged. "That fucking _hurt_! What the hell were you doing?!"

Instead of answering, Knox looked down and began to write. "Nerve endings in automail port in functioning order..." he murmured.

"Yeah, well, _you_ won't be in functional order if you fucking do that again!" Ed snapped angrily.

The pain had subsided, but his head ached and his muscles felt tight as if his body remembered the pain and was afraid to loosen itself for fear of more. And then his brain caught up with his body and he turned to look behind him—expecting to see Mustang ready to punish him for how he'd reacted.

There was no movement from Mustang, but Ed could tell by the pressed lips and the hard look in his eyes that Mustang was not pleased. Ed struggled with a sudden urge to apologize, then decided against it. That fuckwad could have been gentler with his prodding. He could have at least _warned_ about what he was going to do. Ed had every right to be upset...

Ed's head snapped back when he realized the port on his leg was being examined now. Opening his mouth, Ed was about to give Knox a piece of his mind, when he felt a hand on his shoulder and one on his right side. A small tingle rippled through his shoulder and arm from where Mustang's palm was touching his shoulder and also in his side where Mustang's other rested, and Ed knew he'd be in for a lot more pain if he didn't hold still. Gritting his teeth, Ed watched as Knox moved his fingers inside the port. His muscles tensed and he felt the instinctive need to move away.

Knox looked up and said, "Can you feel this?" Ed shook his head. The doctor moved his hand, then, "This?" Another shake of the head from Ed, then a moment later and the pain he'd been expecting came with a fury that made stars bloom in his vision. He heard himself cry out and beyond that Knox saying, "There we go," but it was far away—somewhere outside the haze of pain. He was shaking and his body felt weak. His breath was coming in ragged gasps and his head felt like it was about to explode.

It took him a minute to come back to himself; and, when he did, Ed realized that his skin felt cold and was prickling with sweat. He shifted, then noticed that one of Mustang's arms was draped over his left shoulder and one was wrapped around his waist. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mustang's head on his left side, and could feel the man's cheek pressed against his. The embrace was tight—something to keep him from thrashing around, Ed was sure—yet it was comforting too. He'd never tell Mustang that, and it wasn't exactly something Ed liked admitting even to himself, but it was calming and he let himself relax in Mustang's hold as Knox checked his reflexes, pulse, and other small things.

"Alright," Knox finally said, pulling on a pair of latex gloves. "We just need to check two more places and collect some body fluids, and then we'll be done." It was said with a reassuring tone that Ed suspected was meant more for Mustang than for him, because Mustang's grip on him had tightened and he was sure Knox was aware of it.

Sighing tiredly, Ed wished for the aching in his head and body to go away. Sleep right now would be nice, and with the way he was being held, Ed thought that he could definitely fall asleep if they'd let him. But, he wasn't given the chance.

"I'll need him standing," Knox said in an offhand manner, as if asking someone with one leg to stand up was nothing. But Ed felt himself pushed forward into a standing position as Mustang stood behind him, arms still wrapped around him and holding him steady.

Wishing he could just let his body go limp, Ed forced himself to stay standing, then let his head roll back against Mustang and closed his eyes. He felt exhausted from the pain and sick to his stomach. His head was still pounding and—

His train of thought was interrupted as he felt his balls being grabbed.

"What the _fuck_ are you _doing_?" Ed choked in surprise and embarrassment, opening his eyes and looking down at the doctor who was now kneeling before him and examining his crotch.

"Mister Mustang... If you can't restrain your pet..." Knox said, trailing off and leaving the rest unsaid as he glanced up with a bland look of irritation on his face.

"Eddie," Mustang murmured quietly in his ear. "Be quiet and let him do the exam." Ed scowled. That was easy for Mustang to say. It wasn't _his_ nuts that were being so callously fondled.

"Now, if you'll turn your head to one side and cough once," the doctor said.

Not bothering to turn his head, Ed looked down and coughed hard, hoping to get spittle and germs on Knox in the process. Doctor Knox scowled and rubbed his face with the sleeve of his shirt, then let go of Ed's testicles.

"That will do," Knox said flatly, then stood up and squeezed a little clear gel into his hand. "Now if you'll have him bend over."

Ed stared at him for a moment. Bend over...? Bend _over_?!

"Alright, come on," Mustang said, turning with Ed in his grip.

"No way!" Ed said, starting to feel more than uneasy about all of this. He looked at the doctor as he fought to keep himself from being bent over the bed. "What are you going to do?" he asked, but Knox simply looked at him. He felt a current of electricity flow through him and he dropped; his chest and face hitting the bed. Luckily the bed was high enough that his knee didn't hit the floor. He turned his head to one side and took a deep breath.

It hadn't been enough to knock him out, but Mustang had used enough electricity to weaken him considerably. He moaned slightly and tried to move, but his body felt heavy and he could feel Mustang holding him down. Blood rushed to his face in embarrassment when he felt a hand on one of his butt cheeks and then fingers prodding at him, then pushing into him a little. His muscles tightened almost automatically against the unnatural invasion and he heard a growl from behind him.

"He needs to relax," Knox said, pulling out what little bit of finger he'd pushed inside of Ed's body.

"Is this really necessary, Doctor?" Mustang asked.

"We do a _thorough_ examination on _every_ trainee when they come here," Knox answered. "That _includes _a prostate , you wouldn't want to put a lot of work into training an animal that wouldn't live long enough to become of any use, would you?"

Ed wanted to shout that he wasn't an animal. He was a human being! He had rights! All this talking about him as if here were nothing, as if he wasn't even there, or as if he couldn't understand what they were saying made him so angry. He wanted to lash out, but he was already so exhausted. He felt Mustang's grip on him shift and moments later he felt the man's palms touching his skin.

"No..." he whispered. He could only imagine that Mustang was planning on knocking him out—something that would be very unpleasant to wake up to given how abused his body already was feeling.

"No?" Mustang asked quietly.

Ed swallowed, suddenly realizing that he had to make a choice right now. It was either pride or pain... He'd already had enough pain. It was too much. He'd just give a little this time. It wasn't a big deal... not like he hadn't done it before...

"Master..." Ed said in a whimper that made him feel horribly pathetic. He hadn't meant it to come out like _that_. "No more... please..." he whispered. He couldn't see Mustang's face at this angle, but he felt the pressure of the man's hands give slightly, then one rubbed his back lightly.

"You need to relax," Mustang said slowly. "Can you do that?" Ed pressed his lips together and breathed in slowly, trying to get his body to relax. But the more he tried to force himself, the tenser he became.

Finally, in frustration, Ed whispered, "I can't..."

"Not even for me?" Mustang asked, sounding a little like he was trying to coax Ed and a bit disappointed at the same time.

"I'm _trying_, but I can't..." Ed answered with a slight whimper in his voice. He didn't want more pain or humiliation. He just wanted this to end; wanted them to put him back in his cage so that he could curl up and sleep.

"It's too soon for that," Knox said in exasperation. "He's not ready."

"I'll say what he's ready for and what he's not," Mustang answered in a businesslike tone. There was a long moment of silence, then, "Do you have an extra glove?" Nothing was said, but Ed could hear movement, and then Mustang pulled him up on the bed and whispered, "Try to stay on your knee and elbow."

It was easier said than done, and Ed felt like a fool with his rear sticking up, but he did it and moments later he felt Mustang's hands—one of them gloved now, by the feel—running over his back, then lower to his bum.

"This is me, Eddie..." Mustang said in reassuring tone. "I want you to relax." He tried and found it was a little easier now. Mustang's hands were gone momentarily, then one came back again to rub against his skin, and then the next moment he felt something touch his opening. He tensed automatically.

"You're not relaxing, Eddie," Mustang said softly.

"What are you doing?" Ed asked, knowing the basics but wanting more of an explanation. When he got no answer, he added, "Master."

"I'm going to help you relax. Doctor Knox has to do this exam. There's no way around it, but since you haven't... had an experience like this before... I thought this way might help."

Ed thought about it. Having two people stick their fingers up his ass didn't seem anymore thrilling than one person, but at least he felt fairly confident that Mustang wasn't going to do something that would hurt him.

With a deep breath, he said, "Okay..."

It took a couple of minutes, but finally—with the help of Mustang murmuring reassurances to him and softly petting him—Ed relaxed enough that Mustang was able to push inside of him without any problems. It was uncomfortable. Mustang's fingers felt cold and slimy, and there were a lot of times Ed grimaced at how the man's fingers were moving into him. It was also embarrassing... Who _wouldn't _be embarrassed, Ed wondered, feeling his cheeks heat slightly. But the experience overall wasn't as bad as he'd feared it would be.

"Alright, now Doctor Knox is going to take over and do the exam. Just stay relaxed and you'll be fine."

Ed nodded, then felt Mustang pull his finger out, only to be replaced quickly with Knox's. For some reason it seemed more okay for Mustang to do that than Knox. Of course, Mustang hadn't really _done_ anything except for maybe stretch the muscles down there a bit. Knox was probing around inside of him in a way that made him want to squirm with discomfort. He felt one of Mustang's hands on him again, gentle and comforting, and Ed focused on that. And then, before he knew it, the exam was over. He exhaled loudly, then made a face as he shifted. Whatever that clear goo was, he could feel it between his butt cheeks now and it wasn't exactly comfortable.

"Very good, Eddie," Mustang said, and a moment later he felt himself being cleaned up. "You can lie on your side now," Mustang added with a small pat on his butt.

Feeling completely worn out, Ed fell over on the bed and closed his eyes. This had to be one of the most horrible and humiliating days of his life... along with all the days in the previous week.

Ed opened his eyes and watched as Mustang walked into his line of sight, threw some paper towels away, and pulled off a plastic glove before tossing it in the garbage. He studied him tiredly, considering what had just happened. He wasn't exactly sure what to make of it, and at that moment he didn't care because the words 'draw blood' poked viciously into his musings. It was as if he suddenly had life blown into him as he scrambled to sit up and look at the doctor. Knox was holding the syringe and a strip of rubber, and looking at Mustang.

"If you could tie this above his elbow..."

Ed looked over at Mustang and shook his head. He _hated_ needles! Needles were worse than having someone grab his testies or stick fingers up his ass. They were pure evil! But if Mustang noticed his pleading look, he chose to ignore it.

Grabbing the rubber strip, Mustang said, "Hold out your arm." Ed pulled his arm close to his body and shook his head again, this time with more fervor. Mustang stared at him quietly for a long time as if considering, then moved toward him.

"No!" Ed shouted and scrambled awkwardly back on the bed. "I hate needles! I don't want to do this! Please don't make me! I can't! I really _can't_!" He was babbling now, but he didn't care. He'd had enough mistreatment. This was the last straw!

Getting on the bed, Mustang crawled over to him and grabbed his arm. Ed tried to wrench it away, but he was just too weak to make much of a difference.

"You _will_ get your blood drawn. This is not an option," Mustang said firmly as he quickly tied the rubber strip around Ed's arm.

Ed looked up at Mustang and tried to give him the most pathetic look he could come up with. "Master..." Ed said pleadingly. "I hate needles..."

"So do I," Mustang said unsympathetically. "But I have commanded you to do this and you will. I will be _very _displeased if I must resort to force."

Ed stared into Mustang's eyes as if he'd find some shred of mercy there for him, but there was nothing. Looking down at his arm, Ed weighed his options, then thought about how Mustang had held him and helped him through the more embarrassing examinations.

When it came down to the moment of getting the needle stuck into him, Ed _knew_ he wouldn't be able to keep his head together. He really had no dignity where needles were concerned. Most likely he'd end up knocked out by Mustang getting pissed at him, and who knew if there would be food and sleep later if he _really_ displeased him...

"I _do_ have other things to do today besides wait for you to coddle your new trainee," Knox said blandly.

Mustang glared at him and said tightly, "Training my pet is more important than anything you have going on, so shut up."

Ed glanced at Knox—who was now pressing his lips together in anger, but was keeping quiet all the same. Looking back at Mustang, Ed saw that he was content to wait for Ed to decide on something.

What pride was there in resisting something that was only going to bring him pain and suffering in the end? Besides, wouldn't it seem more dignified to go along with this, to ask for help? Maybe it would hurt his pride, but at least he wouldn't look like an idiot _and_ he wouldn't get punished... _and_... Ed thought of the strawberry. And... maybe he'd get rewarded in some way for being less difficult...

Looking up, Ed pushed the broken pieces of his pride away and said uneasily, "Master... I... Will you make sure I don't..." _Thrash, flail, make a total ass out of myself and end up getting punished..._ "…move." Would Mustang be displeased that he couldn't do this on his own? Would asking for help count against him? But then he hadn't _exactly_ asked for help. Should he make it clearer?

Yet, Mustang seemed to understand and Ed thought he seemed _pleased_ with him; which, in turn, made Ed feel pleased with himself as well. This is, until he scooted to the end of the bed where Knox was waiting like a vulture... Ed glanced at Mustang in panic, then watched as the man moved behind him, putting each leg on either side of his body, then holding him tight.

"I'm right here," Mustang said kindly. "I'll always be here for you as long as you're loyal to me."

_He will care for me as long as I am loyal._

The words from the litany echoed through his mind and he felt a slight chill tingle through his body at how literal those words seemed to be becoming.

As Knox moved forward, Ed tensed and tried to pull back, but Mustang held him still and Ed clenched his teeth and looked away as the doctor stuck the needle into his skin.

"Breathe deeply," Mustang murmured, and Ed did so. Within moments it was over; and, when he looked back, Knox was putting the blood away in a case. "You did really well, Eddie," Mustang praised. "I'm very pleased that you asked for my help."

"Yeah, but wouldn't it be better if I didn't _have_ to?" Ed asked distractedly as he watched Knox tape a ball of cotton to where he'd been stuck by the needle. The doctor then turned and took out two small plastic containers from his case. It took Ed a moment to realize what he'd just said, and his eyes widened slightly. Where had _that_ come from?

He turned in Mustang's hold to see the man looking at him with a small smile on his face. "You'll get there," he said.

_I don't __want__ to get there!_ Ed thought worriedly. He felt disturbed by his thoughts and actions. Uncertainty filled him and he turned away from Mustang and looked down at his lap, trying to figure out what exactly had happened since Doctor Knox had come to their room.

Something _had_ happened. Something had fallen into place. Mustang was pleased about something, but Ed wasn't sure _what_. He retraced his decisions, but they all seemed very logical to him—nothing out of the ordinary; nothing that didn't make sense.

"I'm going to leave these two containers with your trainee," Knox said, breaking Ed from his thoughts. "I would like a urine sample and a sperm sample. I expect that he should be able to accomplish both."

"I don't think that will be a problem," Mustang said, pushing Ed to a standing position and guiding him back to the cage.

_Urine...? Sperm...?_ That meant that they expected him to... He nearly burst out in protest, but remembered that he probably wouldn't get an answer to anything he asked if he wasn't polite. But _damn_! How could they expect him to do _that_?! It wasn't as if they could force sperm out of him!

He blinked, then felt his cheeks heat at the mental image of them trying to force sperm out of him. They... wouldn't do _that_... would they? He gave it a moment of thought, then decided he didn't want to find out.

"Master...?" Ed asked with forced politeness as he watched Mustang take the lids off the containers and set them down inside of the cage.

"We'll be in the restroom for a while. It's not just the trainees who get medical examinations. You need to have the samples ready within fifteen minutes," Mustang said.

Ed frowned, feeling a little put out. It wasn't fair that he didn't get to see Mustang's examination. He opened his mouth to say so, then closed it when Mustang raised an eyebrow.

"There's really no need for us to use the restroom," Knox said. "It can all be done right here."

Mustang stared down at Ed for a long time, then said, "No... I think I would prefer to do this in the other room." He knelt down and scooted the containers into the cage a little, then looked at Ed. "I think that leaving Eddie alone for a while would be the most productive thing." And in a quiet voice that Ed was sure Knox couldn't hear, "I'm very happy that you asked for my help. Because I'm so pleased with you, I'm going to let you have some privacy."

Ed blinked in surprise at the realization that Mustang was insisting on going in the other room for his benefit. He sagged in relief and gave Mustang a weary smile.

"Thank you... master..." Ed murmured, meaning it sincerely. Having to try getting himself off to give a 'sample' was bad enough, but having to do it in front of other people... he wasn't sure if he would have been able to do it.

Mustang gave him a small smile, then stood and headed toward the bathroom with the doctor following behind. When the door shut, Ed sat there for almost a full minute, staring straight ahead at nothing in particular.

Now that he was alone, Ed felt the full weight of the exhaustion he was feeling from what had just happened. The urge to scoot to the back corner of the cage, curl up in a ball, and sleep was strong, but he knew that would only bring temporary relief. With reluctance, Ed grabbed the first cup. Giving the first sample would be no problem, but the second...

He shook his head, wondering what kind of freaks these people were. What kind of tests were they going to do with his _sperm_?! How could that possibly show how healthy he was? Perhaps they could tell something about some reproductive function, but who the hell _cared_? It wasn't as if they were expecting him to be some sort of breeding stock...

At least... he didn't think so... He _hoped_ not.

The thought made him feel extremely uncomfortable and he pushed it away and focused on what he was doing. His situation was already pretty bizarre as it was; he didn't need his imagination running away and coming up with wild ideas.

When he was finished with the first sample, Ed set the cup down and carefully pushed the lid tightly on the top, then looked over at the other cup. He stared at it for almost a full minute, then looked down at his very soft and flaccid penis.

How humiliating...

How completely humiliating...

He looked around the empty room through the bars of the cage, then grabbed the cup and slid to the back of the cage where it was dark. With the wall behind the bars at the back and the sheets of metal behind the bars on the sides of the cage, it gave him a semblance of feeling as if he were really alone.

Setting the cup aside, Ed tried to make himself comfortable by laying on his back, then gave a big sigh and reached down to touch himself. Getting himself off had never been a problem in the past; but then, he'd never felt _obligated _to do so either. He'd never been forced into it and given a _time limit_.

Ed focused his mind on what he was doing and tried to think of something arousing. Immediately, the first thing that popped into his mind was the memory of that morning in the shower... with Mustang...

He felt his face heat at the thought, and also at the realization that the memory was having the desired effect on his body. Ed glanced self-consciously to the front of the cage, then moved his attention to stare unseeingly to the ceiling of the cage. This had to be done. If thinking about the memory of being naked with Mustang was what it took to get off before the two men came back into the room, then that's what he would do.

Closing his eyes, he let himself remember the scene. The feel of the warm water pelting down on his bare skin, of the soap resting in his crotch, of him touching Mustang's naked body... he recalled it all so vividly...

Ed licked his lips, as his mind took a vicious turn and he was suddenly on the bed with Mustang pushing his finger into Ed's ass. It hadn't been a comfortable experience at the time, but his brain was replacing the memory of how it had really felt with thoughts of how good it _could_ feel, if only in the right circumstances...

He squeezed the muscles in his rear as he lifted his hips and moved his hand in more erratic strokes. So close... he was so close... In an effort to push himself further, Ed imagined that there had been more to that episode on the bed. That the doctor hadn't been there, and Mustang was easing his cock into Ed instead of his fingers.

And then he climaxed hard, making his heart stop and his breath catch in his throat. His body sagged back, feeling the wetness on his hand, then he realized what he was supposed to have done and swore bitterly before sitting up and awkwardly scraping his hand against the top of the cup.

He wasn't able to get it all, but he got most of it. Grabbing the cup, Ed tried to scoop up the bits of cum that had gotten on his body, then scooted toward the front of the cage and set the cup down by the first. He put the lid on, then moved back into the darkness, curling up with his back to the room.

Ed's body was relaxed, and he had to admit that it had been a great release for all the stress he'd been feeling lately, but he also felt deeply shamed and embarrassed. Mustang and that fucking doctor were aware that he was going to be masturbating. That wasn't exactly a part of his life that he liked to share... But almost just as bad was the fact that he'd done it by thinking of _Mustang_.

In the past, Ed had idly wondered what it would be like to have sex with another male. He'd heard that it happened, though had never known—at least that he knew of—anyone who indulged in those type of activities. It wasn't something that he'd dwelt on excessively, but he had thought about it while getting himself off before. However, he'd never put a face to his imaginary male partners like he had with his female fantasies. The fact that he had done so now, and that it had been _Mustang_, greatly disturbed him.

He tried to think of some reason to make it all better. Perhaps it was because Mustang was the first person who had ever touched him there like that, and had ever put a part of his body—even though it was just a finger—into his body... Or maybe it was because of what happened in the shower... Or maybe...

Closing his eyes tight, Ed vowed that he would _never_ let Mustang know. He could never let the man find out that Ed had thought about him in that way. It would be far too embarrassing...

He heard the door to the bathroom open and close, but he didn't bother turning around. There was the sound of papers, of muttering, then of movement before a voice said, "You didn't ejaculate directly into the sample container, did you?" There was no mistaking the doctor's irritable disapproval.

Ed turned to see the man holding the cups in gloved hands and staring at him with a scowl. Raising an eyebrow, Ed held up his hand and made an obscene gesture. Doctor Knox's eyes narrowed and he said in a low voice, "Your _master_ might let you get away with that kind of behavior, but being easy on you will only be your downfall—and his as well."

There it was again. That 'being easy on him' line. It irritated Ed to hear it, both because he personally felt that Mustang was pretty hard on him, and also because he didn't like hearing someone else criticizing his master. It was okay if _he_ said bad things about Mustang, but to hear someone else do it was maddening.

Without stopping to think about how that hadn't always been so, Ed said in a low voice, "Fuck off. Mustang hasn't been _easy_ on me. He's been a total bastard. You should see what kind of shit he's put me through." Realizing that didn't exactly sound like praise, Ed frowned, then said, "He's the best damned trainer in this place. I bet anyone else would be too _scared_ to take me on as a trainee." Ed stopped and scowled at his own words. This wasn't coming out the way he wanted it to.

Knox's face took on a thoughtful look. "Well... I can't say I expected that..." he said, then turned to put the samples in the case. Without looking at Ed, Knox said, "It's rare to have a trainee defend the trainer so soon in the training..." He glanced at Ed. "Perhaps you really are as far along as he says."

Ed blinked, not sure if that was supposed to be a jab or a compliment. But he didn't have a chance to say more because he heard the door to the bathroom open, and moments later Mustang into his line of sight carrying two sample cups that were identical to the one's Knox had just put away.

That made him pause in thought. Mustang had to give samples too? Had he gone through all of the same examinations? The idea puzzled him, but at the same time he couldn't help feeling a little better knowing he wasn't alone in what he'd just gone through.

The two men conversed in low undertones that Ed couldn't hear, and then with a curt nod, Doctor Knox snapped his case shut, walked out of Ed's line of sight, and in a moment he could hear the door closing.

His gaze moved to where Mustang was now sitting on the bed and staring at him. Ed wondered if he was going to get more praise, or if he was going to get scolded for something, but neither happened. After a moment, Mustang stood, retrieved his writing book and sat down in a chair.

Not sure if he felt grateful or disappointed that nothing had been said, Ed turned toward the back of the cage, closed his eyes, and let his tired mind drift away.

* * *

Well, it has been quite a while since I updated this story. I do apologize for the wait. I hope you enjoyed the chapter and I'll try not to take so long on the next chapter. Thanks for reading.

—

**Comments are always welcome.**


	12. Progress

**-  
**

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Twelve**

**Progress**

**-  
**_In the past week, Eddie's rapid progress has stagnated somewhat. I know I've written at length about this subject several times, but there is nothing else for me to dwell on other than that. We've been here at the training center for two weeks. The pace at which he was moving forward was remarkable, but then it just stopped._

_Looking back, I think the examination was a large factor. I was so pleased at some of the choices Eddie made during that visit. I really felt as though he was starting to move on. But, after that, Eddie made no further progress, and there have been times this week where he digressed backward—back to being snappish and stubborn. I've had to punish him severely for the most ridiculous things. Perhaps he wasn't ready for the steps he made while Knox was here, or maybe my expectations are too high. In one week, Eddie reached a point that usually takes many other trainees a month or more._

_Despite what Knox said, I don't believe I'm being too soft on Eddie. I am his trainer; I know what he needs. Doctor Knox may have been at this facility for a long time, but he's only seeing one part of this. He's not an alchemist and he's no longer in touch with what the military is like outside of this facility. He has never taken C-3 training, nor will he ever. Not only have I had training that he hasn't, but I've also had the benefit of knowing Ed. I understand him. I know that the path I'm taking on this is the right one._

_The only break in the monotony this week was submitting that report to the director. He's very interested in Eddie's progress, though I suppose he would be. Eddie is definitely a special case... He's the youngest trainee ever to set foot in the facility, and the fact that he came willingly (though admittedly naïvely) seems to be of much interest to many._

_But I've already gone over that in my other entries, and I don't want to be repetitive. I think I'm only writing now out of sheer boredom. I'm not allowed to have books in the first part of the training. Supposedly it's to keep my attention focused on the task at hand. _

_I admit that I've used a few pages in this book to doodle some arrays... Probably not the most proper use for this journal, but I needed some relief. Being stuck in this room is really starting to wear on me, and I'm sure it's starting to wear on Ed. So far today, Eddie has been doing well. I wonder if he's grown weary of testing his boundaries, or of being a little brat, or whatever the reason has been for his recent disobediences._

_I think so, or perhaps I just want to believe it. Maybe it's only my desire to bring this part of the training to an end, which makes me think it. And yet... he __does__ seem quite settled today._

_Perhaps I should test that theory..._

* * *

Ed rolled over onto his side and stared through the bars at where Mustang was, _again_, writing in that stupid book of his. It wasn't fair that Mustang got stuff to do and he had to just hang out here in this lame cage...

Of course, Mustang was probably still displeased over how he'd acted last night... It wasn't as if Ed had done anything _really_ bad... Okay, so he'd been a real jerk and had started cussing and stuff when Mustang got fed the good food and Ed was stuck with the shitty military rations, but it wasn't fair...

Ed knew that he'd been unreasonable, but it was just... He sighed and turned over onto his back again to stare up at the ceiling of the cage. When Doctor Asshole had come last week, Mustang had seemed so pleased with Ed; and Ed, on the other hand, had become a little bothered at some of the things he'd done, things he wouldn't have done before they'd come to this place. It was also distressing to find that having done some of those things seemed perfectly _normal_, as if it were only right that he should ask Mustang for help and call him master.

But it wasn't normal.

It wasn't!

Ed felt like he was losing himself and becoming someone he didn't recognize. It was like he could _see_ it happening, but he was powerless to stop it. He didn't want to be powerless... He didn't want to change... Ed felt as though he was sliding downward on a slippery slope. Even though it would just be _easier _to slide downward, he kept fighting to regain his footing and get back to the top.

But after a week of trying to force his way back to who he'd been, Ed was finding that person was gone... He wasn't there anymore. It just didn't feel as natural to snap at Mustang or to insult him. It seemed... wrong. And besides that, Ed was starting to become acutely aware of this _look_ in Mustang's eyes whenever he had to punish him. It was like he was _disappointed_ in him. Not angry, but disappointed...

Ed rubbed at his eyes, then sat up and scooted toward the bars. He looked out at Mustang, trying to remember why he was resisting in the first place. Why did he want to go back to being who he was before? Wasn't Mustang trying to help him?

With a sigh, Ed rested his head on the bars and wondered why he was making this so difficult on himself. The memories in his mind were fuzzy and trying to make them clear just gave him a headache.

"Mu..." Ed began, then corrected himself. "Master?" He waited for the annoyed feeling he always got when he had to call Mustang that. It was still there, but becoming fainter every day.

Mustang looked up curiously, then said mildly, "Yes, Eddie?" Ed paused, letting himself feel the revulsion at the name; letting himself bask in the emotion and felt pleased that it was still there. He didn't want to accept that name, but at the same time, he found that it bothered him less with each passing day. Ed glanced away toward the bed. Mustang was looking at him expectantly; but, in truth, Ed had simply wanted to break the silence, and now found that he had nothing to say.

"Uh..." he said, drawing out the moment while he tried to think of something. "Um, well... it's nothing," Ed finally said. He felt stupid now because he hadn't had anything to say. He also felt slightly guilty for wasting Mustang's time with something so trivial, despite the fact that Mustang hadn't really been doing anything.

Closing the book and setting it on the nightstand, Mustang stood up and walked over to the cage, he looked in at Ed for a moment, then stuck his hand in and lightly touched Ed's head.

"I think it's time for another haircut," Mustang said thoughtfully.

Instant protest gripped Ed, but he didn't say anything. He _could_ complain, but really he just didn't have the energy right now and he was tired of the punishments. His recent bout of disobediences had gotten him nowhere and he was starting to wonder if he should just give it up. Besides, he wanted to get out of his cage. The cage was tall enough for him to stand up in, but it was small, making it hard to move around in, and sometimes he felt a little claustrophobic. Also, sitting on the floor was hard and uncomfortable, and there were no smooth sides for him to sit up against. There were sheets of metal outside on each side and on the back of the cage, but they were behind the bars, so they did him no good. There were times that Ed idly wondered if they were removable. It would be really nice to have more than just one side of the cage to see out of.

Ed watched as Mustang gathered a chair and some hair cutting tools before opening the cage door and extending his hand to Ed. _My reward,_ Ed thought as he took Mustang's hand. The help to the chair was his reward for not complaining and for being obedient like he was supposed to be. He'd watched the pattern emerge over the last couple of weeks. When he complained or was disobedient in any way, it always seemed as though everything were much harder. It wasn't always anything big. Sometimes it was something as simple as Mustang making him fend for himself, but it was always there.

On the same note, whenever Ed was 'good', whenever he obeyed without question, didn't complain, or even when he went out of his way to be manageable or ask for help, then it was as if his life in general was much easier. It could mean that he might get a piece of fruit, or that Mustang would help him to the restroom, or even that Mustang was just... _nicer_ to him overall... in ways that weren't always easy to explain.

Ed sat on the chair silently as Mustang gave him his second buzz cut. It wasn't nearly as traumatic as that first haircut, but he couldn't help feeling a little saddened by the act. It wasn't as if growing his hair out again would return him to the way he used to be... He felt the small pieces of hair fall on his bare shoulder and back, and he could feel the hairs inching between the collar and his neck, but tried not to squirm even though it itched.

The mechanical buzzing of the razor stopped and then a moment later he felt Mustang's hand on his skin, slowly brushing the small hairs away. Ed swallowed and tried not to think about the touch, but it was difficult. During the last week, his mind had constantly reminded him that he'd jerked off to fantasies of himself with Mustang. Sometimes he'd even had to turn on his side, with his back toward the man, to hide the erection he got.

It was humiliating and he wanted it to stop, but it was like his traitorous brain was reminding him of that specifically _because_ Ed didn't want to think about it. Ed supposed it was like when someone told you not to think about something and you found yourself thinking of the very thing you were told not to for the sole reason that you were forbidden to do it.

Ed couldn't understand it. He'd never been attracted to Mustang, and yet he continuously found himself being drawn to the man. It wasn't just sexually, but... it was something Ed couldn't describe. This magnetism toward Mustang also seemed to be what was pushing him to behave or be deferential. But the frustrating thing was that Ed really didn't understand where this was coming from. It wasn't as if anything _big_ was happening to make him feel like this. Every day was the same... There was no change that Ed could see.

Mustang's hand had stopped now and was resting on Ed's shoulder. He could feel the man's thumb slowly rubbing his neck beneath the collar. It felt good—the touch. Ed didn't want it to feel good, but he couldn't deny that it did. Part of him felt like he wanted something more, but he wasn't sure what...

The silence in the room was total and Ed felt himself becoming nervous and antsy as he considered how he felt about the touch. He could hear Mustang sigh softly behind him and wondered what the man was thinking about. Was he thinking about _him_? Could he be thinking anything similar to what Ed was thinking? He didn't think so, but...

"You need a shower," Mustang finally said.

Ed nodded, feeling curiously relived and disappointed at his words. He wasn't thinking about him at all then; or, at least, not on the level that Ed was thinking. And, a shower would be great, definitely better than having to deal with having the hair clippings on his body. He watched as Mustang retrieved the crutch leaning against one of the walls and handed it to him.

"Go shower."

Ed blinked and stared at the crutch in surprise. He'd only ever used this when having to stand all night—something he'd had to do just two nights ago. Mustang _always_ accompanied him in the shower because Ed had the disadvantage of having only one arm and leg.

He looked up at Mustang and saw that the man was watching him. It was as if he was observing Ed to see what he'd do with this change. Ed was on the verge of saying something, then decided against it. He'd been told to take a shower, and been given a way to do it on his own. Ed supposed he should be glad of that. At least he would get to shower by himself. It was always slightly uncomfortable having to shower with Mustang—especially since they were usually touching in one way or another, _and_ because he had to bathe Mustang as well.

But now he'd get to shower on his own. Even though it would be difficult, he'd get to be _alone_! He wasn't even allowed to be alone when he _pissed_! The last time he'd been alone had been... Ed felt a little embarrassed as he remembered that, and forced the thought away. He should be happy about this unexpected turn, but for some reason that wasn't the emotion he felt at all. He felt... confused... unsure...

With a nod, Ed stood, then stopped when Mustang put a hand on his shoulder. "A nod isn't good enough," he said, then waited expectantly.

Ed stared at him for a moment, then said, almost in a mumble, "Yes, master." He thought it was sort of stupid to have to verbally confirm that he was going to do what Mustang told him to do. He didn't understand why it wasn't enough just to do it.

Mustang took his hand away and waited silently, so Ed hobbled slowly to the bathroom. He took a moment to look at himself in the full length mirror, but he felt too disgusted by what he saw to linger. That wasn't _him_ staring back through the glass. It was someone else... It was that person Eddie that Roy kept calling him, and that wasn't who Ed was.

Ed turned on the water and gracelessly positioned himself under the warm spray. It felt good and he let himself revel in the warmth for a moment before grabbing the soap. He glanced to the door, expecting to see Mustang, thinking that perhaps he would have come in, but he wasn't there. With a deep frown, Ed steadied himself then awkwardly began to wash.

Every few seconds, Ed would glance toward the door, but he never saw Mustang. It was... odd... He _felt_ odd. It was as if something was missing, and he was surprised by how _disappointed_ he felt over the man's absence.

The shower didn't take long; and, when he was done, Ed almost grabbed the towel before stopping. Mustang had told him to shower... but he hadn't said to dry off... Ed felt confused and wary. It made sense to dry off after showering, but... but... but Mustang hadn't _told_ him to do so!

Ed glanced again at the door. Mustang would have heard the shower go off. He might be wondering why Ed was still in the bathroom... Feeling horribly indecisive, Ed reached out his hand toward the towel, and again he stopped. Finally he shook his head and hobbled out of the bathroom. He found himself worrying about the water dripping on the floor. Would Mustang be upset about that? Ed knew that if Mustang decided to press his palms to the metal floor and send a shock his way, it would be magnified by the water around him.

_Why did he do this to me?_ Ed wondered, feeling frustrated. _Why didn't he come with me? Why didn't he give me better instructions?_ When he was in the bedroom, Ed stopped and looked at Mustang, feeling resentful that he was now dripping on the floor, still wet, because Mustang hadn't told him to dry off. He felt like a complete fool, and it was Mustang's fault.

Mustang glanced up from where he was sitting on the bed and eyed him silently, then glanced down at the floor where a small puddle was forming around Ed's feet. Ed felt the urge to vent his frustration, to demand answers. But insolence would get him no where and Mustang never answered demands.

But sometimes he _did_ answer questions if they were phrased right...

"Master..." Ed said. "You..." He was about to say 'You didn't tell me to dry off', but he stopped himself. Instead, he said, "I'm sorry that I'm dripping water on the floor, but I was only told to shower, not to dry off." Yes, that sounded sufficiently humble, but it also sounded pathetic to Ed's ears. And yet, frustratingly enough, Ed felt _satisfied_ with how he'd phrased it. He waited, hoping that Mustang might explain himself.

"You didn't ask," Mustang said simply. Ed blinked. He didn't _ask_?! Well, of course he hadn't _asked_! He hadn't _thought_ about asking! Mustang stood and walked toward him. "I shouldn't have to tell you everything. You must know me well enough to understand what I want you to do without me saying it outright. And, if you don't understand, then it is important that you ask."

"So... you're saying that you _did_ want me to dry off?" Ed asked, trying to make his tone even, despite the fact that he felt frustrated and embarrassed.

Mustang raised an eyebrow. "Do you really believe I would want you to stand there wet and dripping?"

"Yes!" Ed snapped without thinking. "After all the things I've had to go through? Hell yes!" He knew this was definitely the wrong response, but he felt so _angry_—angry at Mustang for not telling him what to do, angry at himself for having not done the right thing, and embarrassed that he had fallen short of what had been expected of him. He felt so _inadequate_ right now and completely pathetic for feeling the way that he did. He should have asked... He should have thought to ask!

Mustang pressed his lips together tightly, then sat back down on the bed. "Very well," he said unhappily, and Ed waited expectantly for his punishment. "You'll stand there until both you _and_ the floor are dry."

Ed looked at him for a moment, then nodded and said, "Yes, master." It came out as more of a growl than anything else, and Mustang's eyes narrowed. Ed tried to hold his gaze, but he found that he couldn't and dropped his eyes downward. He saw water on the floor below him before his eyes rested on his shriveled penis. Being cold and wet had caused it to wither and pull back toward his body.

_Lovely_, Ed thought sarcastically, thinking about how his manhood was small enough without it looking even smaller. _Well, whatever_, he thought and shifted slightly to try finding a more comfortable position for the crutch under his arm. He was going to be here for quite a while...

* * *

_...and I'm not quite sure if I did the right thing or not. Eddie was right in not taking action when he wasn't sure if it was what I wanted. I was of a mind to praise him for that. He's had to be told every little thing he could do since we came here, so his actions weren't unexpected (and, in fact, I had hopped for an outcome similar to this. This shows that we've made progress). But, then again, he needs to get to the point where he knows what I want instinctively. That is a little beyond his grasp right now and if it hadn't been for his flippant attitude, I __would__ have praised him. _

_But enough of that. I had the chance to let him know what would be expected of him. That is something at least. I just wish he would grasp onto the concept that if he would only __ask__ and ask contritely, then he would get the information he needs._

* * *

Ed gave a small sigh and shifted his weight. He supposed it must have been at least two hours, but it was hard to be sure. There was no window in the bedroom and no clock either. It was enough to drive one insane... or at least disturb someone greatly.

Looking up from the now dry floor, Ed said softly, "Master?"

Mustang didn't look up from his book, nor did he do anything different at all, but Ed knew he had Mustang's attention. He couldn't exactly explain how, but it was just something he felt...

"I'm sorry about earlier," Ed said contritely.

"What about earlier?" Mustang asked.

_Of course,_ Ed thought wearily to himself. _Specifics... _"I'm sorry about my bad behavior and about what I said." There was a long moment of silence before Mustang got up from the chair, set the book aside, and moved over to where Ed was standing.

"And what else?" Mustang asked.

_Else?_ Ed wondered and wracked his brain, trying to come up with something else, but to no avail.

Mustang must have seen the puzzlement on Ed's face because he said, "You should also be sorry for not knowing what I wanted. I sent you to do something and you didn't bother finding out all the information first. Not only were you lax on that, but you had no idea what my desire for you was. These are things you must work on. Everything you do must be done with me in mind."

There was a slight pause as Mustang looked him over, then he continued. "Even something as simple as taking a shower must be done with me in mind, because the fact that you are taking a shower is something that I desire you to do. You must always know what I would want you to do and your every thought must be of how best to serve me."

Ed searched Mustang's face, his first thought being that Mustang must be either joking or off his rocker, but he wasn't... Mustang was dead serious. He meant every word he said. And why wouldn't he? That's what Ed was here for, wasn't it? To become, in essence, Mustang's slave? But it was more than that... It wasn't just any slave. There was rhyme and reason to it. There was a purpose that Ed wasn't sure he really understood—or maybe he just didn't _want_ to understand.

As if his mind thought it would be of some use, he instantly heard the litany in his mind.

_When my master is happy, I am happy.  
__When my master is sad, I am sad.  
__Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally  
__My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal.  
__My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him.  
__Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do.  
__If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is.  
__My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him._

No... the military wasn't spending all this money to train alchemists to be lap dogs...

_If my master tells me to kill..._

Ed felt a shiver run up and down his spine, and felt some of the horror he'd first felt when hearing those words. No, not at all... Somehow this was supposed to make him an even better weapon than being _only_ a State Alchemist. He wasn't going to just be an attack dog, but one who was trained to be deeply loyal...

If Ed had believed in a god, he might have said a small prayer for that god to help him. But he believed in none, so he simply swallowed and nodded to Mustang.

"I will work on my temper and my words. And I will remember to ask you questions and I'll always keep you in mind," Ed said as docilely as he could muster. That was more than he could have done when he'd first come here.

Mustang gave an approving nod, then moved over to the cage and opened the door. He didn't say anything, simply looked at Ed. And Ed, for his part, didn't need to be told. He hobbled over to the door, handed Mustang the crutch, and moved inside.

With a heavy sigh, Ed lay down on the floor and tried to relax. His leg and under his armpit ached, but that was only secondary to the ache in his heart and the lump in his throat. He wanted to believe that he'd never, _ever_, do anything that was against his beliefs. He'd never kill someone... But, he never would have believed he would one day call Mustang 'master', or act so deferential to him. He never would have believed he would masturbate with Mustang in mind, or think nothing of living his life completely naked.

But calling Mustang 'master' was almost—though not quite—second nature now, and being naked was nothing. His pride had long since given up on believing it indecent. And thinking of Mustang while... Ed shook his head. He didn't want to believe it, but he had a horrible feeling that one day he might do anything Mustang told him to without a second thought.

* * *

Aaaand the elusive chapter 12! It did not take me 6 months to get this out to you! I'm very pleased about that, though I wish it wouldn't have taken that much time. Buuuuut I moved to a different city and bought a house during that time, sooo my writing time went down a little. In any case, I hope it was worth the wait!

--

**Comments are love.**


	13. Test

**-**

**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter Thirteen**

**Test**

**-  
**"Good morning, master," Ed said groggily, feeling tired and a little irritable. He wasn't ready to wake up yet, but for the last week Mustang had decided that when he woke up in the morning, Ed would wake up; and that when he went to sleep at night, Ed would go to sleep. The synchronized schedule was more than a little annoying, because he often couldn't actually fall asleep at the designated time, but he sure as hell had to wake up at that time. At least it didn't apply to naps, and Ed was already planning an after breakfast nap.

"Good morning, Eddie," Mustang said with a yawn, and stretched his hands up to the ceiling with a groan.

According to Mustang, they'd been in this room for almost a month now; and every day seemed almost the same, except that they weren't. Ed knew they weren't. There were small changes each day that were only really noticeable when he compared his life now to how it had been at first, or at the second week, or even the third.

Ed pulled himself up to a standing position using one of the bars and waited expectantly for his master to take him to the bathroom.

Mustang had his back to him and, as if he knew instinctively what Ed was doing, waved a hand and said, "Just say it. I can hear you."

Rolling his eyes, Ed recited the litany without thinking, then said, "I really gotta pee." He shifted on his leg, then bounced a little in impatience. When Mustang didn't come over immediately, Ed repressed a small growl and said politely, "Master, I'm ready for you to let me out whenever you're ready." With a nod, Mustang walked over, unlocked the cage door. Ed felt relieved to have been acknowledged, but annoyed at the same time because he'd been ignored in the first place. Never mind that it had been his own fault for not being polite...

Mustang handed him the crutch, and Ed took it without comment, making his way to the bathroom. Ed wondered if having to go by himself was some sort of punishment for how he'd just acted. Though he hated to admit it to himself, Ed actually preferred being accompanied by Mustang. Ed knew that it wasn't natural to feel that way, knew that he'd hated having to be with Mustang all the time when this first started, but he just felt kind of sad and lonely when he was by himself. Luckily this was a rare thing, and Ed was grateful for that.

When he was washing his hand, Ed wondered how much longer they would have to stay in this room. He was starting to get a little antsy at being stuck in the room, but he didn't bother saying anything about it. There was no point. They would leave the room, when they left the room. Nothing he did would change that. Well, perhaps that wasn't true. If he was really good, and did what Mustang wanted him to without any problems, then they might leave eventually.

Ed leaned on the crutch and headed back to the bedroom, where he hobbled over to the cage and waited patiently to be let back inside. Mustang was now leaning forward to stretch his back. His hands reached toward the floor and Ed couldn't but help feel a little uneasy. He had too many bad memories of what it felt like when Mustang put his hands to the floor and sent an electric current through his body.

With a small groan, Mustang stood up straight and Ed waited expectantly for the man to come and unlock the cage, but he didn't. Instead, he flopped backward onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling.

Glancing at the cage, then back at Mustang, Ed wracked his brain to figure out what he was supposed to do. He could just stand here and wait for Mustang to let him back in the cage, but maybe Mustang didn't want to get back up and let him inside. In which case, Ed could get the keys and let himself in, except that Mustang never allowed him to touch the keys.

A nagging sense of panic started to tug at him and he really wanted to just demand to know what the hell Mustang wanted him to do so that he could do it. And then the panic dissipated as Ed remembered he didn't have to guess.

"Master?"

"Hm?"

"Would you like me to just stand here and wait for you to let me in the cage, or would you like me to let myself in?" Ed asked as meekly as he could, then felt pleased with himself. He'd remembered to ask since he didn't know.

"Neither," Mustang said, and Ed instantly frowned. Neither? What did he mean by _that?_ Luckily for him, Ed didn't have to wonder long. "You can sit or lay on the bed with me while we wait for breakfast." To accompany that, Mustang patted his hand a little against the mattress.

Ed hesitated only briefly. He'd only been on the bed a few times since he'd come here, and this was the first time Mustang had invited him to be on the bed in this manner. Feeling a little cautious, Ed moved to the bed and sat down. The mattress was soft beneath him and a small smile touched his lips involuntarily. It had been quite a while since he'd sat on anything soft and it felt great.

Deciding to take Mustang at his word, Ed lay back on the bed and gave a small, contented groan. After sleeping on the hard metal floor of his cage for the last month, this was like lying on a cloud. Ed started to close his eyes, then stopped and glanced over when Mustang reached to the night stand and grabbed that writing book of his. Mustang scooted to the head of the bed and sat with his back against the headboard as he wrote.

Ed watched him for a moment, wondering what Mustang wrote in the book. Was it a journal? Ed couldn't really think so since he couldn't imagine anything happening here worth writing about. Maybe he kept notes in there for when he had to report to the director? Maybe. Ed shrugged mentally, dismissing the book as not really all that important, then rested a hand on his stomach as it gave a hungry rumble. Breakfast sounded really good right now. Even those nasty rations that Mustang kept him alive with sounded pretty decent—not _good_, but he'd sort of gotten used to them. But, he wouldn't get fed until Mustang got breakfast, so he'd just have to wait.

* * *

_Today I'm going to see how far along Eddie really is. I want to see if he's ready to move on. I also think it's time he understood a few things. Whether I tell him or not depends on how he responds to today's test. I hope for both our sakes that he passes._

* * *

A familiar knock sounded on the door and Ed didn't even bother to look up when it opened. He knew it would either be a man or a woman, dressed in white, with black on the sleeves, or on the cuffs, or in other places. The style varied, but the colors remained the same. It was sort of like the clothes his master wore, only Mustang's were black with red. Ed mentally shrugged. He hadn't figured out the significance of the colors yet, but he was sure he would.

He heard the tray table being set up and the tray being placed on it. He'd seen it plenty of times, and he knew the routine well. With a small yawn, Ed rolled over onto his side and looked at the attendant—a man this time—then watched curiously as Mustang gave the attendant a piece of folded paper. The attendant glanced at it, nodded, then left the room after giving Mustang a small bow.

The urge to ask what that was about was strong, but Ed kept his mouth shut with an effort. If Mustang had wanted him to know, he probably would have said something. Feeling a little disappointed that his time on the bed was over so soon, Ed started to get off.

"I didn't tell you to go anywhere," Mustang said as he took a sip of one of the juices. Ed stopped, feeling unsure, but moving back to his previous position nonetheless. "I think I'll have you feed me this morning," Mustang said.

Ed blinked, not sure if he'd heard right, but he knew that he had, so he scooted over to the other side of the bed and sat between Mustang and the food. It all looked and smelled so good... His stomach growled and his mouth began to salivate heavily.

"What do you want first?" Ed asked, hearing his own hunger radiating in his tone.

"Just feed me whatever. I don't have a preference."

Reaching out for the fork, Ed chose the eggs first. It had some sort of sauce on it, so he had to wait until it didn't drip to move the fork to Mustang's mouth. Ed swallowed once, then again as he watched Mustang eat, then swallowed a third time, knowing that if he didn't then he'd start drooling.

Only half the food was gone by the time Mustang said he'd had enough. Ed stared longingly at the leftover breakfast, knowing that there was a high chance that it would just be thrown away. The temptation to sneak a bite was strong; Mustang wasn't really paying attention anyway. When Ed put the fork down, he could snatch one of the berries and pop it in his mouth when he had the chance.

Licking his lips, Ed slowly extended his hand toward the tray and gently set the fork down. His hand trembled lightly as he stared at the uneaten berries. They were right there by his hand... so close... He wanted them more than he could ever remember wanting anything.

But... his master hadn't told him that he could have one... Ed bit lightly on his lower lip. His time was running out. It would seem suspicious if he kept his hand there too long. With a deep breath, Ed pulled his hand away and gripped the bedding tightly. His frown was so deep that he could feel it, could feel his eyebrows and forehead crinkling.

Turning away from the food, Ed stared hard at Mustang, waiting for the man to feed him, but Mustang wasn't doing anything except for reading that other book of his, the one he'd had on the train. Ed shifted his weight and continued to stare. It was his turn! Mustang had been fed. It was his turn now!

The minutes passed, and Ed's breathing became heavier. Mustang hadn't forgotten about him, had he? He was right here! How could he forget?! Ed shifted his weight again and cleared his throat, hoping that would get Mustang's attention. Surely he wouldn't forget to feed him... Or maybe he was doing this on purpose? He could be. Ed wouldn't put it past him, but he hadn't done anything wrong! He had even resisted stealing the berry!

No, his master had just... he was just... _preoccupied_... Except, that explanation didn't really make sense to Ed, and so he fell back on the only theories he had. Either Mustang had forgotten that Ed needed to be fed too, or he was punishing him for something Ed didn't know he'd done wrong, or... or Mustang simply did not _want_ him to have any food...

The last thought both angered and hurt Ed. How could someone not feed someone else just because it pleased them not to?! What an asshole! And yet... over the last couple of weeks, Ed had thought that he and Mustang were developing some sort of bond. He'd thought that Mustang might care about his wellbeing. If that was true, then why wouldn't he feed him?

Ed studied Mustang's face. Maybe his master was sick? It was strange enough that he hadn't been put back in his cage, but Mustang never forgot to feed him. Ed decided that he'd ask to see if Mustang was feeling well. Perhaps that would remind his master that Ed needed to be fed, but he was interrupted even before he could get the words out.

"I don't think I got enough sleep last night," Mustang said. "I think I'll take a small nap." He lay down and tucked the two small books near his body before resting his head on one of the pillows and closing his eyes. At that, all thoughts of asking Mustang anything flew from his mind.

_He's really not going to feed me!_ Ed thought in dismay. His stomach growled loudly as if to echo Ed's offended thoughts. Ed looked again at the tray, then back at Mustang. If Mustang was asleep, he wouldn't know if some of the food was taken or not, but Ed wasn't really sure how deep of a sleep Mustang's nap would be since it was only midmorning.

Feeling hurt, angry, offended, and hungry, Ed scooted to an empty spot on the bed, turned his back to Mustang and tried to take a nap of his own. If he wasn't getting any breakfast, then he could try to sleep as much of the morning away as possible. Maybe lunch would come early.

But, try as he might, Ed couldn't fall asleep. All he could think of was the food on the tray and how hungry he was. Opening his eyes, Ed glanced around at everything in his line of sight. Part of his cage, the wall, the door, the—Ed's attention jumped back to the door.

The door! The mother fucking _door_! It hadn't been closed all the way. The attendant hadn't shut it tightly and the lock hadn't latched. He could leave. He was out of his cage and the door to the room was open! That realization struck him so hard that for the moment he forgot about the gnawing hunger eating at his belly. He could sneak out of the room, maybe out of the compound, and get away.

Escape.

His throat, which had recently been so well wetted, now felt dry and his heart pounded nervously in his chest. Sitting up, Ed looked at Mustang, who now seemed to be asleep. As quietly as he could, Ed began to move off the bed, then he stopped, remembering that Mustang hadn't wanted him to get off the bed. He hadn't said specifically that Ed couldn't get off the bed, but he'd made it pretty clear that he didn't want Ed to leave the bed.

Ed breathed deeply through his nose and let the air out slowly. So what if Mustang had said that? He was going to leave. He was going to grab the crutch, go out that door, find his automail, and get the fuck out of this hell. Except that he wasn't allowed to use the crutch without Mustang's permission...

_So WHAT_! Ed thought in frustration. That didn't matter if he was leaving! But... he didn't even know where his automail was... _Mustang_ most likely knew where it was. Mustang was his master. Mustang would take care of him. He'd give his automail back when it pleased him to give it back.

Ed put his hand to his forehead as he tried to work out the conflicting feelings he felt. He should want to go, to escape. After all the shit Mustang had put him through, this was his chance. He'd eat some of the leftover food, take the crutch, and leave. He'd find someone and steal... borrow... their clothes, and he'd leave this place.

Except... all that stuff that Mustang had done to him had been for his own good. It had been because Ed was being a shit head. It was because Mustang had been displeased with him. But Mustang wasn't like that now. Life had become a lot better the last couple of weeks. Mustang cared for him, and when Ed wasn't in the same room with Mustang he felt kinda lonely, and...

Besides, if he left now, then he might not reach his goal.

Ed felt a little ashamed that his goal of becoming a C5 so that he could get more information had been the last thing to come to his mind. But that was all for later. It wasn't really important right now, was it? No... it wasn't really important right now because he hadn't reached that goal yet.

Glancing at Mustang, part of the litany came back to him and seemed to reverberate through his brain.

_Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally.  
__My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal._

Ed pondered that as he sat there. He felt sad when he wasn't with Mustang, but it wasn't like he was happy when he was with him either. He didn't feel joyful at all, but maybe the right word was... content. Yes, that was it. He felt sort of _content_ when he was with Mustang. And Mustang _had_ cared for him quite well since Ed had stopped causing so much trouble.

He looked at the door again, knowing that it would be disloyal of him to leave, and if he wasn't loyal, then Mustang wouldn't take care of him. If he was caught, then Mustang would be displeased. No, not _if_ he was caught. Ed _would_ be caught. He would be caught because he had no idea where he was and before he even got out of the building someone would see him. It wouldn't be hard to ignore someone who was naked and missing a couple of limbs. They'd capture him, and Ed wouldn't be able to do anything about it because he had no way to defend himself with his limbs gone and his alchemic ability taken away. He'd be caught and given back to Mustang, and his master would be angry... He'd be angry... and there would be pain and misery—a lot of it.

Feeling a little unhappy, slightly confused, and completely resigned, Ed lay back down on the bed, his back now to both the food and the door. He curled his body up as much as possible and tried to block the hunger and doubts out of his mind, but it was hard. He wasn't sure if he could trust his judgment. This seemed to be the right decision, but there was a nagging part of him that was appalled at this choice.

Would he have decided this a month ago? Maybe... and maybe not. It was possible that a month ago he would have fled from this room as fast as possible—no matter the chance of punishment or that he wouldn't be able to achieve C5 status; although it was he might have stayed for that reason alone. He wondered if he was wiser now than he had been when he'd first come, or if he just wasn't thinking clearly.

Sliding his hand over his head, Ed groaned softly with a pain that wasn't physical. Everything had always seemed so black and white to him before, but now there was only gray. He not only doubted the decisions he made, but also the reasons behind them. Could he even trust himself to make the right choices? It was enough to make him want to lash out at something, or just sit down and cry, but he wouldn't do either of those things. Instead, he simply lay there, feeling unhappy, confused, and hungry.

"I'm very proud of you."

The quiet voice startled Ed and he looked up quickly to see Mustang looking back at him with a small smile.

"Proud of me?" Ed asked in confusion.

Mustang nodded slowly. "You didn't leave the room, didn't leave the bed, and you didn't sneak any of the food on the tray. Even though you had the opportunity to do all of those things, you didn't. You made the right choices."

_Did I?_ Ed wondered. He felt pleased at the praise, but that didn't dispel the cloud of confusion that was still on him.

"Come here," Mustang said with a small smile. He patted the bed beside him and looked at Ed expectantly. Ed awkwardly moved up to lay beside Mustang and waited, not sure what would happen next. Would he be praised more? Would he be in trouble for even considering doing any of that stuff? His master seemed to know that he'd been thinking of doing all of that. Had it been so obvious? Ed felt suddenly nervous, wondering if he deserved to be punished for his intentions. He hadn't actually done it, but he'd _thought_ about doing it... But no, that wouldn't make any sense. He'd thought all kinds of things before and had never been punished for any of them.

Mustang brought his hand forward and Ed cringed and shrank back a little. His muscles tensed and he closed his eyes as he waited for the painful shock that he knew was bound to come. But no shock came. Instead, Ed felt Mustang gently slide his hand over his head. Opening his eyes, Ed looked at Mustang in surprise, but when the soft stroking didn't stop, Ed let his body start to relax.

The petting felt good despite his mind telling him that such a thing was humiliating and degrading. For a moment, Ed wondered if he should pull away, maybe object to being treated so blatantly like a child or an animal. He still had a shred of self-pride, didn't he? There was a moment of consideration, then he decided to ignore the negative feelings. Ed couldn't think of any time that he'd acted on those thoughts without ending up miserable afterwards. Ignoring his inner objections, Ed leaned into the petting, letting himself enjoy the physical contact.

"I think you deserve a reward for such good behavior and loyalty," Mustang murmured, and lightly massaged the back of Ed's neck with the hand that had been petting his head. Ed brightened immediately; he'd thought that the petting was his reward. It might be ridiculous, and his mind told him that it was, but Ed was suddenly eager and excited. It was rare that he got any more than verbal praise, a kind touch, or a small bite of Mustang's food as a reward.

"Do you suppose you can finish off the rest of my breakfast?" Mustang asked with a small grin.

Ed's eyes widened involuntarily. The _rest_ of the breakfast? Not just a berry, or a few bites, but _all_ of what was left? Glancing at the tray, his mouth instantly began to salivate heavily and his stomach growled loudly, giving him an unneeded reminder that he was hungry.

Looking back at Mustang, Ed said, "I'm sure I could finish it all." When Mustang didn't speak right away, but simply considered him thoughtfully, Ed had a sudden fear that this was also a test and that he might have failed it in some way. Either that, or this was some sort of cruel joke. In an effort to redeem himself somehow, Ed added, "If that's what you want me to do, I can do it. I'll do anything you tell me to do."

"What I want you to do is to _slowly_ eat the food on that tray until you are no longer hungry. Not full, just no longer hungry. At that point, I want you to stop. Understand?"

"Yes, master," Ed said instantly, relieved and thrilled that this was the real thing.

And so he ate; slowly, but steadily, working his way through the leftovers. Ed wasn't sure if he'd ever tasted anything so delicious in his life, and he thought in passing that he'd happily do whatever it took to be able to eat like this every day and to be treated so well by his master as he was right now. But it was a passing idea, one that resided mostly on a subliminal level and only skimmed the surface of his conscious thoughts long enough to have recognized it was there, but not long enough for him to dwell on its meaning or its significance.

Ed was only through half of the food when he realized that he was no longer hungry. He was disappointed, and longed to eat more, but instead he stopped and turned to look back to where Mustang was quietly watching him.

"I'm finished," Ed said, feeling a sense of contentment. He wondered if he'd have to go back to his cage now. What he really wanted to do was lay down and bask in the satisfaction of being full and happy with what he'd just eaten, and while he'd rather do it on the soft bed, he'd settle for his cage if it meant he didn't have to do anything else right now.

As if reading his mind, Mustang patted the bed beside him, and Ed instantly obeyed. With a satisfied sigh, Ed lay down and closed his eyes. He felt Mustang petting his head again, and this time Ed had no thoughts of protest at all. It felt good. _He_ felt good. This was paradise.

"I want you to say the litany, Eddie," Mustang murmured. Without protest, Ed recited.

_When my master is happy, I am happy.  
__When my master is sad, I am sad.  
__Without my master, my life is nothing, so I will serve him loyally  
__My master is my only joy. He will care for me as long as I am loyal.  
__My master has the right to punish me if I ever disobey or displease him.  
__Whatever my master commands me to do, I will do.  
__If my master tells me to kill, I will kill, no matter who it is.  
__My master's word is law, and I will obey him and only him._

There was a small moment of silence before Mustang said, "Are you happy, Eddie?"

"Yeeeeaaah..." he almost purred. Happy, full, comfortable, content... he was all of those.

"I am happy too," Mustang said, stroking the skin behind Ed's ear. "I'm very pleased with you right now. Your loyalty is very important to me. You must be completely loyal to me."

"Yes, master," Ed murmured, then yawned. He was feeling a little sleepy after having so much food, and he wondered if it would be okay to take a nap.

"No one will take care of you the way I will take care of you," his master murmured. Ed smiled as he thought that he sort of liked the idea of Mustang taking care of him like this. This kind of treatment was definitely worth being loyal for.

"Tell me," Mustang whispered in Ed's ear. "Who are you?"

The smile faded from Ed's face. _I'm... I'm Edward Elric..._ he thought, though he knew that wasn't the answer Mustang was looking for. He was supposed to say that he was 'Eddie', but he wasn't. He was Edward Elric. He would always be Edward Elric. But, right now he was just going to pretend that he was Eddie. He'd just say what Mustang wanted him to say so that he could continue to enjoy this moment. There was nothing wrong with just saying it to say it. He didn't have to mean it.

"I'm Eddie," Ed whispered back. The words tasted a little bitter in his mouth and he couldn't understand why he had a sudden sick feeling in his stomach. He hadn't meant it. He'd just said it to say it. But now that he'd said it, Ed suddenly wished he could take it back. He wanted to un-say it, wanted to deny it.

Opening his eyes, Ed looked up at Mustang, who was smiling proudly down at him. His master was very pleased with him. He'd done all the right things and said all the right words. The protest that had been forming in his mind dissolved. Ed wouldn't bother taking back what he'd said today. It would just undo all that he'd just done. But he'd have to be more careful in the future.

He wasn't Eddie.

He would never be Eddie.

Never.

* * *

Hey! 2 and a half months since the last time I updated this story! Not too bad considering this thing's history of updates! This makes me very happy, though I'm sure I'm not the only one who is happy about this haha

Also, I will be at **A-Kon** **2009** in Texas at the end of May, cosplaying the ever awesome Roy Mustang. Anyone who would like to try meeting up or just say hi in passing feel free to send me a PM and we'll try to work something out!

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	14. Learning the Limits

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**Training Edward Elric**

**Chapter 14**

**Learning the Limits**

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**_Eddie is asleep beside me right now as I write this. I doubt he's slept this well since before he came here. I know for sure that this is the first time he's eaten well since we started the training. I doubt anything short of my order would have kept him from devouring every scrap of food he could get his hands on, and he'd probably be nursing a sick stomach right now if I hadn't forbidden it. _

_As for the test, I'm both relieved and saddened by the results. I wanted Eddie to pass. He __needed__ to pass, but at the same time, I can see what this is doing to him. I can see the conflict in his eyes and I want to feel guilty for what I'm doing to him, but... _

_No. No, I __do__ feel guilty. I really do. But it's not the overwhelming sense of remorse that I used to feel. When I try to dredge up those emotions, they're simply not there. Does this make me a bad person? Through my C-3 training I know that this type of change is normal, but I can't help but feel disturbed by my ever decreasing lack of concern over what I am doing._

_I suppose I had believed that I was different, that I wouldn't change. I think I'd believed on some level that I would be able to resist and remain untouched by all of this, but now I have to admit, if only to myself and to this book, that I was wrong._

_I understood that we would both change from this, but I don't really __feel__ as though I've changed all that much. Every decision and every emotion seems natural, but when I glance through my previous entries I can tell that I'm definitely not the same person I was when I first came here._

_I'm sorry, Ed. This isn't really turning out how I'd expected. I hope I can still follow through with the promise I made, I hope I can still remember you after this is over and maybe even bring you back. But the longer I'm here, the more I doubt that I can hold on to you and still be what I have to be for Eddie..._

* * *

Ed woke to the feel of a hand slowly rubbing his head, and the soft whisper of, "It's time to wake up, Eddie." The touch only felt good until he realized it was Mustang and that he was petting him the way someone would pet a dog or a cat.

Opening his eyes, Ed stared balefully at Mustang for a moment, then changed his expression instantly when the man raised an eyebrow at the look he was being given. No... no baleful looks, not at Mustang. Not right now anyway. Right now he was lying on the man's soft bed, and he'd just been fed the most amazing meal, _and_ he'd just woken up from the best sleep he'd had in ages. No, right now he didn't want to do anything to upset Mustang, so he released the tension on his face and changed his expression to a more neutral one.

"Good, you're awake," Mustang said, then patted Ed on the cheek. "Did you enjoy your reward?"

"Yeah..." Ed said easily, and yawned widely halfway through. He blinked tiredly, caught one look at Mustang's face, then instantly said, "Yes, master. Thank you."

Mustang's lips pulled up into a small, pleased smile, then he gently stroked Ed's cheek with one of his fingers. "Good," he murmured. "Now it's time to wake up. We have a lot to discuss today."

Mustang's hand lingered there for a moment and he stared down at Ed with a look that seemed to radiate warm caring, and yet there was something... missing. It was as if Mustang was holding back in some way, and that didn't feel right... It felt... off... It was as if some part of him knew that Mustang wasn't supposed to be holding back, though exactly what the colonel was holding back, Ed didn't know.

Shaking that feeling off, Ed stretched and yawned again, then awkwardly sat up and looked around. The breakfast tray was gone, but on a nearby chair sat a small, neatly-folded, stack of white clothing. He noticed small bits of red here and there on the fabric as well. Ed also noticed that the door to the room was wide open, as well as the door to his cage. All of this was new, and if Ed hadn't been sure that Mustang was planning to talk about something related to all these oddities, Ed would have asked about them.

"The litany?" Mustang prompted gently. Ed glanced back at Mustang and recited it as easily as he would have the alphabet, then waited expectantly for his master to continue. "I was very pleased with the decisions you made earlier today," Mustang began. "You are doing very well so far." At the praise, Ed smiled involuntarily. His master was pleased, and he was pleased because of _him_.

"I have decided that it is time you understood a few very important things," Mustang said, then stood up, and grabbed the crutch that leaned against the wall. He looked at Ed and held out the crutch. "I want you to leave this room. Go as far as you can," Mustang instructed, then waited expectantly for Ed to take the crutch.

Ed glanced at the door, then at the pile of clothing that he'd hoped was for him. Over the weeks, he'd grown very accustomed to being naked, and it had become second nature to him, but now that he would be leaving this room, modesty was beginning to flood back through him the way that water rushed through a canyon dry from years of drought. He looked at his master, then reached out and took the crutch as he slid out of bed. If Mustang had meant for him to go out of the room wearing clothing, then he would have already brought it up.

When he reached the doorway, Ed stopped and glanced out of the room. He'd been unconscious when he'd been brought here, so this was the first time he'd really gotten a chance to look outside the room. The room they were in was set along one wall of a very long hallway. It stretched far to Ed's right and to his left, then branched off to the right and left. There were some doors to be seen along the walls, and Ed could only assume they were for other rooms like the one he and Mustang shared.

The hallway walls were a very sterile white, and the metal floor gleamed as if someone had just barely finished cleaning it. No pictures hung on the walls, but there was a panel next to each door. The panel next to his and Mustang's door was black, and right below that was some sort of pad with numbers and letters. The black panel was electric and the words _Enter Code for Access to File_ glowed in a deep red near the bottom of the panel.

Ed took all of this information in quickly, but hesitated for a moment longer. Why was he being let out now? Wasn't Mustang afraid of him getting away? He didn't think that likely given that he was naked and missing a few appendages, but it just seemed odd. Perhaps it was another test of some sorts, that would make sense...

Not sure how he felt about this, only knowing that he'd been told to do it, Ed stepped cautiously out of the room and into the hallway. He glanced behind him to see Mustang watching him with a serious expression on his face, then decided to go right, and began to slowly make his way down the corridor.

The air temperature in the hallway was cooler than in the room, and Ed felt goose-flesh crawl over his naked body. The floor beneath his foot was chilly and he found himself wishing he could go back to the room, sit down, and rub his foot to take away the cold penetrating his skin. Maybe even crawl back onto his master's bed and snuggle into the covers to get warm. Even if he had to share the covers with Mustang, that would be fine; although maybe it would be better because of shared warmth.

Ed's thoughts seemed to bounce around inside his head as he moved. The barrenness of the halls around him, the cold air temperature, the fact that he hadn't seen anyone, his nakedness, and the stillness in the air around him made the silence seem almost deafening. His ears began to ring uncomfortably and, despite the chill, Ed began to sweat. His body was beginning to ache all over, and Ed stopped for a moment to wipe his forehead.

Looking back, Ed saw that Mustang was standing just outside the doorway, watching him with arms folded across his chest. His master expected him to go on. He'd told Ed that he was supposed to go as far as he could. Turning his gaze away from Mustang, Ed began to move again. His head was starting to throb painfully from the high-pitched ringing in his ears, and the ache he'd been feeling in his body was starting to become agonizingly sharp. The floor seemed like ice under his foot and his body began to shiver from the cold air around him even as he continued to sweat.

Each step was agony to take, but he continued on. He was still able to move forward, and he _would_ move forward. He would ignore whatever was wrong with him as long as he could. But that turned out to be not as long as he'd expected. Moments later his vision started to fog and his body began to shake. His armpit hurt from the crutch, and after a few more steps his knee gave out and he crumpled painfully to the floor. His skin burned with icy fire as it connected with the cold, metal ground. He could hear the crutch clatter somewhere to his left, but he couldn't see past the white blotches in his vision.

_I can't go on..._ Ed thought miserably, and at the same time he knew he could. It might not be much farther, but he could still continue on. Fiery determination filled him as he clumsily inched his way further from the room. His master had told him to go as far as he could, and Ed _always_ did his best in what he did. No matter what it was, he tried his hardest and gave it his all. This would be no different.

And so he continued on, trying to pull his body forward with his arm and push with his foot, until the muscles in his body screamed out in protest and his vision was completely gone. What parts of his body weren't in pain were agonizingly numb, as if he'd been out in a blizzard for days with no protection and now they were in the first stages of de-thawing.

In exhaustion, Ed lay on his back and breathed heavily through his burning lungs. He felt like he was going to die. For no apparent reason, his body had turned against him, and now he was going to die. Ed was in so much agony that such a thought was almost welcome, but he wouldn't—couldn't—give up. Everything in his body screamed at him to continue on. He tried to push himself with his foot, but the effort was feeble with his strength almost completely gone.

_My master will care for me as long as I am loyal._

The line from the litany flashed through his head unbidden, and Ed groaned and squeezed his eyes shut. Hadn't he been loyal? Hadn't he done what his master had asked? If his master was supposed to take care of him, then where was he?

"Master..." Ed cried out, his voice laced heavily with the pain and agony he felt. "Master, help me!" He wasn't even sure now if he'd actually said it out loud or not. Had he only thought it? If so, then his master wouldn't be able to hear him. The idea that his master might not come for him never even entered his mind, only the fear that his master wouldn't know that he needed help.

And then the fog in his brain, the pain in his body, the feeling of being both frozen and burning began to fade. Ed drew in a deep breath and found that his lungs didn't hurt as much as they had a moment before. He opened his eyes and saw that while there were still white spots blocking his vision, he was beginning to get his vision back. Seconds later he saw his master standing over him, then he was kneeling at Ed's side and holding his hand.

"I'm here," his master murmured. "Just give it another moment. You'll be just fine."

His vision had cleared completely now and the pain was just a memory. All that remained was a faded ache, and even then Ed wasn't sure that was real. It was so faint that he wondered if it were merely a phantom discomfort brought on by the quick reversal of his agony.

"What happened?" he asked, now that his mind was clear.

Mustang reached back and grabbed Ed's crutch, then stood up and held his hand out for Ed to take. "Let's talk about it back in the room," he suggested.

Ed nodded and took Mustang's hand, letting himself be pulled up. Instead of giving the crutch back, his master put an arm around Ed's shoulders and let Ed lean on him as they slowly made their way back. There had never been a time during the past few weeks that Ed would have ever believed he'd be glad to be back in the small room he'd been sharing with Mustang. But that was definitely the feeling he had as they walked out from the hallway and Mustang shut the door behind them.

Mustang leaned the crutch against the wall, then moved to the bed and sat Ed down before sitting beside him. He examined Ed's eyes and face, and Ed wondered if that was concern he saw in his master's eyes, or if it was his imagination.

"How do you feel?" Mustang asked. Ed thought about the question as he mentally checked himself over. He was fine, perfectly fine. It was as if nothing unusual had happened at all.

"Okay," Ed finally responded.

There was a nod from Mustang. "Good."

"Master, what happened?" Ed asked. He'd never had his body turn on him like that, and he never planned for it to happen again if he could help it.

"You're smart. You tell me," Mustang said, then waited as if he had no doubt in his mind that Ed would find the answer on his own.

Ed took a deep breath through his nose and let it out slowly as he thought. The solution wasn't difficult to figure out. There were only a small number of possibilities that were even probable, though his conclusion really bordered on the impossible for him because he didn't understand _how_ it could be. How did the figures tie in? Where was the math? Where were the alchemic equations that made such a thing possible?

Reaching up, Ed touched the collar, feeling around for the array on the right side, then to the one on the left. He was sure it had to do with one of those, even if he didn't know how they worked. Dropping his hand, Ed looked at Mustang as another realization came to him. He'd never had a chance at leaving. If he would have gotten off the bed and tried to leave while his master had napped—and now Ed doubted if the man had actually been asleep at all—then he would have gone through that same experience, but instead of being saved from that agony, Ed was sure his master would have left him out there until he passed out.

_It would have been my punishment,_ Ed thought with a shudder. And he would have deserved it too, but he found himself extremely grateful that he hadn't followed the temptation to leave the room earlier.

"Something happens as I get farther from you," Ed said, returning to the question. "Since I don't have all the facts, I can't say how or why, but there is some sort of invisible line that marks the area around you that I'm allowed to be in without having a problem. After that, the further away I am, the worse I feel." Ed paused, then added, "Or the farther away you get from me, since I started to recover when you came to me."

Mustang nodded. "Correct. Specifics will be provided for you after your training if you're still interested, but the basics of what you need to know are that one of the arrays on your collar connects you to me. Right now, you aren't able to go very far from me, nor I from you. This will change as the training progresses."

He cleared his throat, then continued. "That same array makes it impossible for anyone besides myself to take the collar from your neck. That bond asserts my authority over you. I can transfer some small part of that authority for a short amount of time if need be—though not the authority to take the collar off. There are other things of note associated with that array, but nothing that needs to be mentioned now."

Ed sat there for a while, digesting the new information and filing it away in his memory, then he asked, "What about the other array?" Mustang just stared at him and Ed added, "Master?"

"I thought that would be obvious," Mustang said. "The C-5 program is designed as a rehabilitation program for criminal alchemists; something that creates a new person who is an asset to the military and to society. There has to be some way of controlling them until they are trained."

Something to take away their ability to do alchemy. Of course. Surely he'd thought of that possibility before. Ed was sure he _had_ thought of it, but his thoughts, emotions, and memories in this place seemed so blurred.

Ed reached up and touched the arrays again. He'd tried to study them in the mirror from time to time, but they were so small and the etched metal so fine that he couldn't see all the lines properly. What he really needed was to take the collar off so that he could hold it close to his eyes; or, even better, under a magnifying glass to see the complex array in full.

Mustang stood up and brought Ed out of his thoughts. He walked to the chair where the neatly folded clothing sat and said, "And now, for this." Picking up a couple of items, Mustang walked back to Ed, and said, "Put your arm up."

Ed did so without hesitation and Mustang quickly pulled a shirt over Ed's head. Lowering his arm, Ed looked down at the shirt and adjusted it a little as he inspected it. The shirt was white and the sleeve on his left arm was loose and fell just above where his bicep began. The shirt opened at an angle across his chest starting at his right shoulder and ending at his left side. The angle of the opening was lined with the same color of red Mustang's black clothing.

Ed pulled at it a little and saw that it was held together by snap buttons. He immediately saw the advantage of this design. Since he only had one arm, if he wanted to undress himself, all he would have to do was pull open the shirt, shrug it off on his right side, then let it slip down his arm on the left side.

The sleeve on the right side had been sewn up so that it fit snugly against his automail port. To dress himself, he'd be able to slip that side on first and, as long as he didn't move too much, it should stay long enough for him to put his other arm through the left sleeve, then easily close the shirt with the snap buttons. It was ingenious, and Ed was instantly impressed.

"The shirt is my design. Let me know if you think of any ways to improve it," Mustang said in an offhand manner. Ed nodded, though considering Mustang had never needed to go without an arm, he'd done a damn good job with the design. Even at the times he'd hated the man most, he'd never denied that Mustang was incredibly intelligent.

Mustang bent over and held open the pants for Ed, who stepped in as he grabbed Mustang's shoulder for balance. The pants were loose and held up by a drawstring. The left leg had been sewn up at the automail port. They were also white, except for a line of red down the outside of each leg. As Mustang stood, Ed let his hand slide down to hold onto the man's arm. He glanced up at Mustang, who was now looking at him with a pleased and approving expression; one that a parent would give a small child who has just learned how to stand up and walk haltingly across the carpet without falling down.

"White is the color of your station," Mustang said quietly, the pleased look fading into something more serious. "You will wear it for the remainder of your training." He sounded like he was rehearsing a memorized speech. It reminded Ed a little of the day he'd been collared, and he realized that this wasn't just a reward for passing Mustang's little test. This was a symbol of his progression.

"The white symbolizes your decision to deny your previous life and identity. You cannot undo the sins and atrocities done by your former self, but you are no longer that person. The state, through the authority of my judgment, has granted you, Eddie, a clean record which you will not tarnish. The white symbolizes that you are to be held guiltless for all acts commanded of you by your master."

As Ed listened, a lump formed in his throat. This speech had obviously been written with those criminal alchemists in mind, and Ed doubted it had been altered in his special case. But, the words still struck home to him. Hadn't he committed sins? Hadn't he attempted the forbidden? But those had been done by Edward Elric, not by Eddie, and in a way he felt so tempted and drawn by this statement.

He'd been fighting this training, fighting to keep himself as the person he was, but bit by bit he'd failed. Now, Ed wondered why he hadn't seen what an opportunity this was before. He could be someone new, someone _different_. There was an easier road to follow, one where he would be free of his guilt and...

But no, an inner voice interrupted. Such a thing would make him little more than a puppet—a living puppet, but a puppet nonetheless. Wouldn't such an existence deny his very being as a human? Yes, he had done wrong, but that was what made him who he was; it was what made him an individual. If he were to become this Eddie, then who would he be then?

_Without my master, my life is nothing..._

And it was then that Ed realized who he would be. He would be Mustang's, and that was all. He would belong to Mustang, do as Mustang said, and carry out his orders faithfully. He would do all of that, and whatever guilt there was to be had would be Mustang's. Ed eyed Mustang's black clothing and realized that the color must be symbolic as well. Was it because as the master, Mustang would have to bear the burden of both this life and his previous one? Or perhaps it was because everything Ed did was to be born by him. His master would have to bear the burden of every command, and like a pot with different colors of paint poured into it, the result would eventually be something dark and black.

Mustang's voice pulled Ed from his thoughts. "The red slashes on your clothing symbolize the blood and pain from the first part of the training. Out of this pain, you are separated from your previous self, and out of this pain you are born again into a new life the way a child is born into the world."

Ed's gaze moved slightly so that he could see the slashes on Mustang's clothing. _And what does that red symbolize for you?_ Ed wondered, but again Mustang's voice cut off his thoughts.

"I'm very pleased with your progress, Eddie," Mustang whispered, and this time Ed knew this wasn't a memorized speech. Mustang—his master—was very pleased with him. Ed knew he should feel happy, and he actually did, but he also felt confusion pulling at him as well.

One part of him wanted to become this Eddie. That part of him liked the good treatment he'd been receiving from his master recently, and he also liked the idea of being free of the wrong things he'd done in the past. It was so tempting to just let his master take the heat for whatever happened.

But another part of him was yelling at him to look at the obvious. This _wasn't_ a good thing. It was _bad_ to let someone be in control of his life. That part of him was angry to be treated in any way other than what he should—a human being with free will. This was the part of him that was most definitely Edward Elric. This part of him used to be strong and loud, easily overpowering the new voice of Eddie that proclaimed that serving his master was the way things should be. But now, the voice of his old self was easily rivaled by that of Eddie's. The one of his old self had grown weaker, and Eddie's stronger, and Ed truthfully had no idea how it had happened.

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